Being Booth
by FictionWriter91
Summary: AU. Booth hits rock bottom after Hannah rejects his proposal. He wakes up in the hospital after he was almost killed in an accident, and a strange woman is saying she can be his therapist, results guaranteed. Angry and unsure of how to move forward after Hannah, Booth agrees to do the therapy, but what he finds himself in is way more than he expected. [Erica & Adam]
1. Dr Erica

**I recently watched the series Being Erica, and I immediately started getting ideas of what to do with Booth if he was in such a situation. This is a crossover with Being Erica, so I know you might not know the characters or storyline/plot. It's possibly not going to get updated as much due to my business outside of here.  
**

 ***Note: Erica became a doctor in 2011 not 2010, but for the sake of this story, she is a doctor in 2010. She also lives in Toronto, Canada. Her boyfriend is Adam, an Irish landscaper.**

* * *

Seeley Booth opened his eyes to find himself in a hospital room. Confused, he looked around to find a woman he'd never seen before standing there looking back at him.

"Hello Agent Booth," she said, smiling.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"I'm Dr. Erica."

"I don't know you," he said, shaking his head. "I think you've got the wrong room."

"I don't actually, but it's okay. You took quite the tumble tonight," Erica explained, tilting her head. Booth took in this woman more now that his vision wasn't as blurry. She had wavy brown hair to her shoulders and a cute smile. Her eyes were green and clear. She wasn't wearing a lab coat, so Booth took that to mean she wasn't a medical doctor.

"Are you my new shrink? Cos I've already got one," he said. Erica laughed.

"I'm a little bit different than a regular therapist," she told him. He looked at her, confused. She pulled out a card and handed it to him. He took it gingerly.

"When you're interested, come find me," she said, turning to go.

"Why me?" he asked. She stopped and turned to face him again.

"Think about it Agent Booth. You got wasted and almost killed by a car while you were wandering around D.C. tonight. I'd say that's rock bottom, don't you think?"

"Um," Booth started.

"Just think about it," Erica suggested. Then she was gone. Booth was left holding her card and wondering what just happened.

...

"New patient?" Adam asked her as she closed the door behind her. Erica nodded.

"I think so. I'm confident he'll find me. My first out of country one too," she said. She hung up her coat and headed over to where Adam was working on a design for his recent landscaping job.

"Where did you end up?" he asked.

"D.C.," she answered.

"Nice," he grinned. She hugged him tightly. She never got tired of his Irish accent, his beautiful eyes, or his handsomeness...not to mention his kind soul. He had almost become a doctor like her, but he had failed the test. He had said he was all right with it, that he wasn't cut out for it like she was. Erica still missed the group sessions, though, and Dr. Tom. Her heart ached just thinking about him. She hoped that wherever he was, he was enjoying his newfound life with his girlfriend.

"This looks great," Erica said gesturing at the plans.

"Thanks," Adam smiled. "I think they'll be pleased."

"Well, you finish that while I go shower," Erica said, kissing him gently. He gave her a squeeze before she headed for the bathroom. She couldn't help but feel confident that she had just gotten a new patient.

...

"Booth?" Brennan's voice cut the air. Booth looked to see her standing at the door.

"Hey," he said. His whole body ached, which reminded him of the fact he had been hit by a car. He was struggling to remember other details, though. The Erica woman had said he had gotten wasted, which was likely since Hannah had rejected his proposal. He remembered going to the bar, telling Brennan to basically leave him alone, and then drinking. That wasn't normally his style, so Booth had no idea what had happened after Brennan had left.

"Are you all right? What happened?" Brennan asked, worried. She sat down beside him.

"I'm not really sure," he answered truthfully.

"The doctor said you were hit by a car," she told him. She scanned him for injuries.

"Well, I'm all right," he said, waving his hand to dismiss her worries.

"They said you were drunk," she said quietly. Booth felt a part of him bristle inside at this.

"I am NOT my father," he said angrily.

"I never said you were," she argued. "Booth, you obviously are hurting more than you're letting on about this whole Hannah thing..."

"Don't," he cut her off. "Don't bring her up to me ever again."

"I won't," she promised. She looked hurt though, but Booth was too angry at himself to worry about fixing it. How had he gotten to this point? He thought of Erica's words, that he had hit rock bottom. She was right. He had.

"Can you just go?" he asked Brennan. She looked shocked.

"Are...are you sure?"

"Yes. I just...I want to be alone for a bit," he said.

"Okay," she agreed, standing up. "I'm here, Booth, if you need me."

"Thanks, Bones," he nodded. He looked away as she left. No doubt she was disappointed in what he had done. Hell, he was disappointed in himself at what he had done. He reached for the card Erica had left for him and read it.

 **Dr. Erica: The Only Therapy You'll Ever Need. Results Guaranteed.**

Booth snorted at this. He contemplated ripping it up, but something held him back. A part of him was curious about it. Once he got out of the hospital, he'd go looking for her.

 **Two Days Later**

Booth was getting frustrated. He hadn't been able to find Dr. Erica anywhere, and there was no number on her card for him to call. He was beginning to think it was a hoax or some random dream he'd had when he was unconscious.

"Are you sure you're okay to work?" Brennan asked, noticing he was distracted.

"I'm fine," he replied.

"Dr. Sweets offered..."

"I know, and I'm fine. Let's just focus on the case, all right?" Booth asked, pointing. Brennan bowed her head slightly.

"I'm finished here anyway," she said, taking off her gloves. "You can go tell the family."

"You're not coming with me?" he asked.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'm not feeling up to it today."

"Fine," Booth said, feeling angry again. She was being distant with him, and he didn't know what to make of it. He stormed down the stairs of the platform and surged towards the exit. He didn't look back as he pushed the door open.

"Whoa," he said, stumbling a little. He had entered a room with shelves of books, a desk, and a chair with a woman sitting in it. Booth stared, completely confused. He looked behind him to see the Jeffersonian, but this wasn't the outside he was familiar with.

"Close the door," Erica smiled.

"How did you...? What did you...?" he started. Erica got up and gently closed the door for him.

"Have a seat," she gestured. Booth couldn't move.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I'm Dr. Erica," she answered simply.

"I know that, but...how did you do that?" he asked, pointing to the door.

"You needed me, so I appeared," she replied. He gaped at her.

"What kind of freak show is this...? Where are the cameras?" he asked, looking around.

"Not a freak show. This is real," she said. "But I understand your thinking. I was there once too myself. Just take a moment to let this sink in."

Booth finally sat across from her after a few moments. He was still confused, and he had no idea what was going to happen next.

"So," Erica started. "You've thought about doing therapy with me?"

"I have," he agreed.

"I should explain a little about the therapy I do," Erica began. "We work mainly on past regrets and find ways to incorporate those lessons into your present issues."

"That's it?" Booth asked, incredulous.

"Well, there's a bit more to it than that," Erica chuckled. "First, are you agreeing to do this with me? Together? To promise to hold up your end of the contract while I hold up mine?"

"Why not?" Booth scoffed. "My life is falling apart anyway."

"All right," Erica smiled. "Then let's get started. Write down a list of all your regrets." She tossed him a pad of paper. He stared at it.

"Seriously?"

"Yes. All of them," she encouraged. Booth picked up the pen and started to write. It turned out he had a lot more than he'd realized. When he was finished, he passed the list back to her. Erica flipped through about four pages of them.

"All right," she said, pursing her mouth. "Which one would you like to start with first?"

"I have no idea," Booth sighed.

"Okay. What is going on in your life right now that might relate to a regret on this list? How are you feeling? What are you thinking?"

"I am feeling like a complete failure and like I can't do anything right," Booth said, rubbing his face hard. "I messed up a relationship with a woman, and I lost a potential relationship with another. I don't know what to do from here."

"Hmm," Erica said, flipping through Booth's regrets. She found one that related a little. "What about '1987 Prom?' Tell me about that one."

"Oh, God," Booth groaned. "I found out this girl had a crush on me, but I was at prom with someone else. This girl was humiliated in front of everyone because she professed her feelings to me in front of my date. I didn't say or do anything to stop it. I even said something to her that made her feel worse, and she left the school and never came back. I don't know if she even finished high school."

"So what would you do differently?" Erica asked, a glint forming in her eye that Booth missed.

"I guess I would have handled the whole thing differently," Booth said. "I could have shut my damn mouth. I could have went after her and told her how brave she was for admitting how she felt. I mean, it was brave of her. I just didn't realize it at the time. I could have even stood up for her," Booth went on. "I could have stopped those guys from making her feel so bad. You know what? I wish I could have found out sooner and just dealt with it in private."

"Sounds like a good plan," Erica said, smiling. "You ready?"

"For what?" Booth asked. She snapped her fingers, and everything started to spin.

"Argh!" Booth shouted, falling onto his face.

"Dude, what the hell?" Chuck asked. Booth looked up at him, stunned.

"Chuck?" he asked. He hadn't seen Chuck since high school...

"Duh? You on drugs or something?" Chuck asked, offering his hand. Booth took it, and Chuck pulled him to his feet. Booth felt his heart racing as he looked around him. They were outside of his high school. He was carrying a back pack. Chuck was staring at him.

"What...what day is it?" Booth asked.

"It's Friday, man! Prom night!" Chuck laughed. "What the hell is wrong with you? You just said how you were gonna have a good time with your date at the after party."

"Right," Booth nodded. Chuck shook his head and continued walking. Booth felt like he was going to have a stroke. He was in high school. It was 1987. What the hell had Dr. Erica done to him?!

* * *

 **I hope it's intriguing enough to want to read more! Please be kind in your reviews. If you're gonna flame me, please remember that I'm a real person with feelings behind this anonymous username.**


	2. Janet

Booth barely heard anything Chuck was saying as he drove. The houses were familiar, and Booth knew that they'd be approaching his soon. His heart was pounding. He was mentally trying to figure out the timeline to know just what he was walking into. He realized quickly that it would be his grandfather he'd find at his house, and he visibly relaxed.

"So, meet us at the school entrance by seven?" Chuck asked, stopping finally in front of the place Booth never thought he'd see again.

"Sounds good," Booth said absently. He got out, hanging onto his backpack like it was his life preserver. He had no idea what was happening. How had Dr. Erica done this? It was obviously real. He remembered Chuck making that same gross joke the last time he did this.

"Shrimp? That you?"

"Hey, Pops," Booth answered, seeing his grandfather standing in the kitchen chopping carrots.

"Big night," Pops grinned, his eyes shining. Booth took it all in for a moment.

"Hey, loser," Jared said, pushing past Booth and heading for his room.

"Jared," Pops growled.

"It's fine," Booth said quickly. He remembered then that he and his brother had gotten into a fight the night before prom. He just couldn't remember what it was about. He went to his room and stood in the doorway, looking at all his posters and his unmade bed. He went and sat on it, pondering what to do. What had he said to Dr. Erica that he would change? He frowned. It had something to do with finding that girl first before she publicly announced her feelings. Where was he gonna find her?

...

Erica hummed as she waited for Booth to arrive. She was acting as a hot dog vendor just down from the high school. She chuckled as she remembered all the ways Dr. Tom would appear in her past as she fixed a regret. It really was quite fun. She suspected that Booth would have a million questions and possibly be mad at her for doing this to him. Erica remembered her first regret she went back to. It had been her prom as well, and instead of saving face and avoiding throwing up in the middle of the dance floor, she ended up having to run for help through the crowd wearing only toilet paper after her best friend had thrown up on her in the bathroom, forcing Erica to get her other friend to go get her gym clothes and leaving her stranded when her best friend started choking on her own vomit. Erica shivered, remembering feeling so scared her friend was going to die. She hoped Booth would have better luck on his first regret than she did.

...

"Grace," Booth said, looking at his date. She smiled.

"You sound like you're meeting me for the first time," she laughed. "We've already hit a few bases, remember?" She waggled her eyebrows, making Booth blush. This was awkward as hell.

"Right," he nodded. "You ready?"

"Of course," she grinned, looping her hand through his arm. Booth looked around for Chuck, finally seeing him pull up. Booth had gotten there early. He couldn't find the other girl.

"Let's do iiiit!" Chuck hooted, rushing up the stairs. Booth was ready to follow when he spied someone down the sidewalk.

"I'll be right up," he promised Grace. "I just have to do something quick."

"Okay," she agreed. She followed the others, and Booth hurried over to the vendor.

"What the HELL is this?" he hissed. Erica smiled back.

"It's a regret," she answered simply.

"So this is how I learn lessons for the future? By going back and reliving this?!" he asked, incredulous.

"Mmhmm," she nodded. "It gets easier the more you do it."

"I can't even find her," Booth went on. "It's going to happen all over again. Nothing will change."

"Something already changed with you just being here," Erica pointed out. "It's all right. Your opportunity will come up."

"This whole thing is so weird," Booth said, rubbing his hair hard.

"Is that her?" Erica asked, pointing at a lone girl heading to the school. Booth squinted.

"It is!" he exclaimed. He took off after her. He was going to do this right.

...

Erica watched him run off. She had a feeling he would get the hang of this sooner than later. He seemed to be the sort of person who adapted quite easily to things. She abandoned her post and headed inside, taking on the role of the janitor. She wished Booth the best of luck.

...

"Hey!" Booth called, making the girl stop and turn around.

"Booth," she breathed. She stepped toward him. Booth tried furiously to remember her name. Then, it came back to him.

"Janet..." he said.

"I have something to tell you," she started.

"I know," he cut her off. She was taken aback.

"You do?"

"Yes."

"H-how?"

"I'm very good at figuring this sort of stuff out," he shrugged, hoping she'd buy it. She did.

"Wow. Oh wow," she said, playing with her black hair nervously. "I was going in there to tell you in front of everyone."

"I think it's probably best you didn't," Booth said.

"Why?" Janet asked. "Are you embarrassed by me?"

"No, that's not..."

"You think I'm a loser like everyone else?"

"No!"

"Typical jock," she spat. "You use me to help you with your homework but don't give me the time of day otherwise."

"I..." Booth trailed off. It was all coming back to him now. He had asked Janet to help him with hard homework. That was the mean thing he had said to her, that she would clearly only ever be good at books not boys because he had never caught on about how she felt. Oh, he had been such an asshole to her.

"You know what? Forget it," Janet snapped, charging past him.

"Janet!" he called after her. She ran faster. Booth stood there, feeling unsure of what to do next.

"Well, you saved her from the embarrassment," Erica said, moving the mop around the floor as she came up to him. Booth glared at her.

"It was the same result," he insisted.

"No. She wasn't humiliated, you didn't say your mean statement, and I'm sure she won't quit high school," Erica mused.

"It still feels like I did it wrong," Booth said, sighing.

"Did you want to date her?"

"Well, no..."

"Then I think it ended better than before. Be proud of that."

"Can we go back now?"

"You don't want to finish the night?" Erica asked.

"No. I want to go home," Booth answered. She snapped her fingers, and they were back in her office.

"So what did you learn?" she asked after a few moments. Booth thought hard.

"That it doesn't matter if you change the process...the outcome is still the same?"

"If something is bound to happen, it will still happen regardless," Erica agreed.

"So Hannah leaving me and Bones being distant still would have happened," Booth reasoned.

"If you hadn't proposed now, you would have later, and Hannah probably still would have said no thus breaking up the relationship. Bones would have still been upset that you were with her and distant when it ended, like she is now. I think that's the answer you're looking for, right?" Erica asked. Booth nodded.

"So I just have to get through the aftermath," he said.

"Sometimes it's all you can do," Erica agreed. Booth stood up.

"Are we done?"

"For now," she answered. "Until next time." She winked. Booth opened the door and fell out onto the steps of the Jeffersonian.

"Booth!" Brennan cried, catching the back of his shirt to stop him from pitching forward down onto the cement. Booth caught his balance and turned to look at her.

"Thanks," he said.

"I changed my mind. I'll go with you," she said, gesturing.

"Oh," he replied. "Okay." A small smile was forming on his face. He didn't push it further as they walked to his car. Perhaps this therapy would help him after all.


	3. Jared

**I'm back! This chapter is a little more serious than the last one, but I do plan on mixing it up with serious and fun as I go along. Happy reading!**

* * *

 _"Hi, Seeley, it's Padme. I really want to talk to you about Jared. It...it's about...well, you know. Please call me."_

Booth listened to the message and sighed. Of course he knew what it was about. Jared had done well for a while, but he was struggling with his alcoholism. Booth wondered how long he'd managed to stay sober this time. He stared at the wall absently, thinking. It was a weekend, and there was no active case for once, so he almost didn't know what to do with himself. Then he got this message. He hadn't seen much of his brother since he married Padme, but they were still in D.C., and he got the occasional message or text. Jared had starting attending AA and was trying to stop drinking, but he was off the wagon more than he was on it, and Padme was growing frustrated with it. Booth decided it was time to see his brother, so he called him.

"Seeley!" Jared's voice exclaimed.

"Hey, bro."

"How are ya?"

"Aw, Jared, are you drinking?" Booth asked, recognizing the slur and overly cheerfulness his brother had when he was drinking.

"Noooo."

"Man, when are you gonna knock this off?"

"Good God you sound like the wife," Jared chuckled.

"I'm coming over."

"No, no, I'm fine..."

"See you in ten," Booth cut him off and hung up sharply. He suddenly knew what he was doing today.

...

Erica flinched, sensing something was up. Adam looked over at her, noticing. They were sitting in a restaurant for lunch.

"What's up?" he asked.

"A client is going to need me soon," she answered. She looked at him sadly. "So much for our afternoon together."

"It'll only be for a little while," Adam reassured her, kissing her cheek. "We can continue when you get back."

"I see why Dr. Tom gave this up," Erica said, realizing. It was time consuming...more than she realized.

"Well, he deserved to finally be happy," Adam pointed out.

"Yes. All right, I'll see you later," she told him, giving him a kiss and heading off to the bathroom. She opened the door and entered her office and sat waiting for Booth to arrive.

...

"Seeeeeeley," Jared drawled when he saw Booth standing at his doorstep. Booth pushed his way in, and Jared closed the door and followed him. Padme was not there.

"Jared, what are you doing?" Booth demanded. He felt his insides drop when he saw all the bottles on the coffee table. Jared had been drinking all day it seemed.

"I can't do it, bro," Jared said, collapsing on the couch. "I'm too far gone to be saved."

"No, you're not," Booth growled. "Come on. If I can beat my gambling addiction, you can beat your alcohol addiction."

"Pffft, sure," Jared scoffed. His head lolled back against the couch.

"You can. You just have to want to," Booth insisted, sitting on the coffee table and looking at his brother.

"I don't even want to want to," Jared rambled. "Besides, who else will carry on Dad's legacy if I stop drinking?"

"So you want to be like Dad then?" Booth asked point blank.

"Why not? It's not like I've got great things going for me right now."

"You have a gorgeous wife and a job lined up," Booth argued.

"Not anymore," Jared sighed, rubbing his face.

"You still have your wife."

"For how long?" Jared laughed.

"Well, that's up to you, isn't it?"

"Is it? Mom left Dad," Jared pointed out. "That wasn't up to him."

"Yes it was. He drove her to leave. He could have stopped, and she might have stayed."

"You have an answer for everything don't you?" Jared slurred. He closed his eyes then.

"I'm getting you some water," Booth said, standing up. He felt almost hopeless, and he didn't know if he could save his brother. He pushed open the door that led to the kitchen, and he walked right into Erica's office. Surprised, he stopped in his tracks.

"Hi," she said, leaning on her hands. "You called?"

"Did I?"

"Well, that's how it works on my end anyway," she answered. "Come on in." Booth let go of the door, and it shut with a strong click. He went to the chair across from her and sat.

"What's up?" she asked.

"My brother is drinking again," Booth answered. "He's supposed to be getting sober, and it seems he's just getting further into it."

"I'm sorry," Erica said, empathetic.

"It's my fault, you know?"

"How is it your fault?"

"I was on a break between tours, and I was going to Guatemala in a couple of weeks' time, so some old friends of mine were having a party and invited me. I brought Jared. I shouldn't have. I hadn't realized that he had never drank before, and he got so loaded at that party."

"You think that's what sent him down the path of drinking?" Erica finished for him.

"It was the start. Pops said he was out all the time. He almost failed high school. He smartened up for a while and got involved in the Navy, but otherwise, he never stopped drinking. Now, he's going to ruin his marriage and his life, and I have no idea how to stop it."

"So that's what party of '94 was," Erica said, tapping Booth's list.

"Yea."

"So if you could go back, what would you do differently?"

"I would stop him from drinking at all."

"That's it?"

"Well, that's all that needs to be done, right?"

"Okay," she said, nodding. Booth narrowed his eyes at her. This was almost too easy.

"So, send me back I guess," he said after a moment.

"All right. Good luck," she said, pointing to the door. Booth braced himself as he got up and opened it.

...

"Yea, dude!" a voice shouted as Booth walked into the hallway. He turned to see the bathroom behind him. He took a moment to adjust and remember whose house he was in.

"Terry," he grinned, bumping fists with his friend. "Have you seen Jared?"

"He was downstairs last I checked," Terry answered. Booth thanked him and went to find his brother while the party pounded on.

"You want one?" a voice asked. Booth rounded the corner to see Jared eyeing up the bottle of beer a guy was holding in his face.

"Hey!" Booth exclaimed, jostling the guy and knocking him away. "What's up?"

"This party is lame," Jared answered. "Can we go?"

"You know what? Sure," Booth said. They headed up the stairs together, and Booth said his goodbyes. He got some boos and "aw mans" as he went, but he didn't care.

"Where do you wanna go?" Booth asked Jared once they were in the car.

"I don't care," Jared shrugged. Booth looked at his younger brother then. He felt like a stranger to him.

"I know a place," Booth said, changing direction. Jared didn't say anything until they approached the water tower.

"Really?" Jared asked, scoffing.

"Hey, this was my joint," Booth said, getting out. Jared reluctantly followed, slamming the door behind him. They climbed in silence, and once they got to the top, Booth dangled his legs and rested his chin on the bar. Jared copied him.

"So, if I hadn't interrupted, would you have drank that beer?" Booth asked casually. Jared snorted.

"You think that would have been my first beer?" he commented. Booth was surprised, and he turned to look at his brother then.

"You've drank before?"

"Of course."

"When?"

"Does it matter? Geez, Dad," Jared snarked. Booth flinched.

"I just...I guess I didn't realize," Booth said after a moment.

"Well, you wouldn't know anything, would you? You're off at war," Jared pointed out.

"Oh, so it's my fault you drink? Cos I went to war?" Booth challenged.

"Forget it," Jared said, getting up.

"Whoa, whoa," Booth responded, grabbing Jared's sweatshirt tightly and stopping him from leaving. "I'm trying to be real here."

"What for? To appease your conscience?" Jared asked.

"Jared, I'm worried," Booth said. Jared fidgeted with his hands.

"No need to worry," Jared finally offered. He pulled out of Booth's grasp and started to climb down. Booth hurried after him. When he reached the ground, Jared had vanished.

"Jared!" he shouted, panicking. This was not going very well.

"Well hey there," Erica said, appearing.

"Gah!" Booth yelped, jumping. She was wearing a jumpsuit and covered in dirt.

"Sorry. I know this is a little gross looking," she apologized.

"What are you supposed to be?"

"I'm not sure. A caretaker maybe?" she said thoughtfully.

"Did you see Jared?" Booth demanded, changing the subject.

"He went that way," she pointed. "So, how's it going?"

"Not good at all," Booth answered, moving already.

"You can be surprised sometimes when you learn the truth about something," Erica said as he walked away. Booth heard her, but he didn't stop. He just wanted to find his brother.

...

After an hour of searching, he found Jared in their backyard nursing a beer.

"Where did you get that?" Booth asked, furious.

"My stash," Jared answered, taking a swig.

"Knock it off," Booth growled, taking it from him and dumping it out.

"Hey, man, you don't make the rules," Jared argued.

"Maybe not, but Pops sure as hell does."

"You gonna rat me out?"

"I just might unless you tell me what the hell is going on," Booth answered. He stood in front of his brother, arms crossed. Jared gave him a steely eyed glare in return but didn't say anything.

"I'm going to bed," he said, moving past Booth.

"This isn't over," Booth called after him.

"Whatever," Jared said, disappearing inside. Booth charged after him, yanking the door open. Instead of his house, he entered Erica's office.

"Hi," she said.

"No," he responded. "Oh, no. I'm going back there right now."

"You can't. It's done," she told him.

"It's not done!" he shouted. "I have to talk to him..." He tried to go out and close the door, but every time it opened to her office.

"Seeley, sit," she said gently. Furious, he sat.

"What was the lesson here? That my brother is still a drunk who won't talk to me?!"

"Perhaps the lesson isn't over," Erica said softly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're with your brother now in the present. Why don't you talk to him now?"

Booth stared at her for a moment before finally getting it.

"I'm to talk to him now," he repeated.

"Door's open," she gestured. He stood and went over to it, his hand on the knob. He turned back to look at her.

"Did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That I wouldn't be able to fix this regret?"

"You haven't?" she asked instead, tilting her head. Feeling a little confused, he opened the door and stepped through it.

...

"Damn, where's that water?" Jared asked, coming in behind Booth, who slammed into the countertop.

"Argh!" Booth shouted.

"Clumsy much?" Jared laughed. "And you're sober."

"Sit," Booth instructed. Jared obeyed, sitting at the bar. Booth poured him some water and slid it over.

"Thanks," Jared said, drinking it.

"Jared, I'm going to ask you something, and I really want your honest answer," Booth said, shaking inside. It was now or never.

"Sure."

"Why did you start drinking?"

"What do you mean?"

"When you were 15. Why did you start drinking? Was it peer pressure? Boredom?"

"No, man," Jared shook his head. Booth waited, but Jared wasn't offering the reason.

"Jared, please. Tell me. I'm your big brother," Booth said. Jared slammed down the water glass then, startling him.

"Oh really? You're my brother? Then why the hell did you abandon me when I was a kid?!"

"What?" Booth asked, shocked.

"You ran off to war! You couldn't wait to leave us all behind," Jared accused. "You never once wrote me. You never called to talk to me, only Pops. You didn't care about me!"

"Wait, is that why you started drinking? Because you thought I didn't care about you?"

"NO! I started drinking because I didn't have any other way of coping with the fact that you might never come home!" Jared yelled, getting to his feet. He leaned on the counter then, eyes blazing. Booth finally understood, and it shocked him.

"Jared, I'm really sorry," he said. Jared's eyes softened then.

"It's all right. It's not your fault. I'm sure if I had just reached out to Pops or someone, I would have found something better to do than drink. I was just so scared, you know? I found a bottle of whiskey and just started drinking it. It made me relax and less stressed. Since then, every time I got scared or imagined you dead somewhere, I drank. When you were done with the war, I had no reason to drink because you were safe, but I kept doing it. It became more of a habit than anything. I wanna stop, Seeley, I really do," he finished, tearing up. "But it scares me."

"Why does it scare you?" Booth asked gently.

"Because...who am I sober? A guy who messed up his life is what. Who wants to deal with that?"

"Nobody, but you can and you will. Jared, drinking will only keep putting you down further into a deeper mess. You gotta climb out of the pit. I'll help you," Booth added. "Padme wants to help you. Let us help you." Jared took in a shaky breath and went over to a cabinet.

"What are you doing?" Booth asked as he pulled out liquor bottles.

"You said you want to help," Jared replied, holding them out to him. "Dump these for me."

"All right," Booth agreed, taking them. He unscrewed them and emptied them in the sink. Jared emptied the beer bottles beside him. Booth was feeling good about this suddenly. When they were done, Jared clung to him in a tight hug.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed. "I'm sorry we got so distant. I'm sorry I made you bail me out so many times. I'm sorry I messed up."

"It's okay," Booth soothed, hugging Jared tightly back. "It's all right."

"Jared?" Padme's voice interrupted. They looked to see her in the doorway.

"Baby," Jared said, pulling away and going to her. "I'm done. I promise. We dumped it all out. I'm going back to AA. I'm turning this around. I swear."

"Really?" she asked, hopeful. She looked over at Booth, who nodded.

"Yea. Seeley really helped me today. I'm done with drinking," Jared promised.

"I'm here okay?" Booth said. "Call me when you need to."

"I will," Jared nodded.

"Oh, Jared," Padme cried, hugging him and crying softly. Booth patted Jared's shoulder and decided it would be best if he left. He started walking to his car when he saw Erica.

"Well?" she asked.

"You were right," he nodded. "I fixed it...my regret."

"Good," she smiled.

"Thank you," he said.

"You did all the work," she pointed out.

"You helped me keep going," he responded. "I think he's on the right track now."

"That's great. I'm so glad."

"I hope I didn't ruin too much of your plans today," Booth said.

"Oh no. I'm heading back now anyway. Until next time," she waved, grinning. Booth watched her walk away until she pulled open a door and disappeared. Smiling to himself, he returned home.

...

"Well?" Adam asked when Erica returned from the washroom.

"It went really well," she answered proudly. "He is a quick study."

"That's good," Adam smiled. She put her hand on his then.

"Let's get out of here," she suggested. "Enjoy the rest of our day together."

"Sounds good," he grinned. He paid the check, and they walked out side by side holding hands.

* * *

 **Thank you to those who have reviewed so far. It means a lot to know that someone is enjoying what I'm writing. I have lots of ideas for this story, so I hope you stay tuned! I'm going to have a more fun regret for next chapter ;) Happy Holidays everyone!**


	4. Valentine's Day

Booth was cringing inside. Of all cases to have, he had to have one that involved a wedding planner. Was the universe just trying to taunt him?

"Are you all right?" Brennan asked, seeing his face. "Is this case reminding you of Hannah's refusal of your proposal."

"It is now," Booth growled, glaring at her.

"Sorry," she said.

"I'm fine," he told her. "Just fine." He didn't care if Brennan believed him. He found himself a little annoyed with her right now because of all the men who were calling her looking for a date on Valentine's Day. It didn't matter that she said no. It bugged him that there were just so many even calling.

He saw his phone ring, and saw it was Cam.

"Nope," he said, sliding it to voicemail. He was _not_ going to listen to Cam give another speech about how she _needed_ to be off in time for Valentine's Day. He wasn't in the mood.

"She's getting under my skin too. It's just a day. It's not even a real holiday," Brennan said, exasperated.

"Here here," Booth muttered. They were leaving from talking to Wendy's second husband. He didn't like the look of that guy for some reason.

"I need a coffee," Brennan said. "Is that okay?"

"It's fine," Booth answered. He needed one too. He was getting a headache. All this love crap was bringing him down. They got to the diner, and she ran in for two coffees. He sat in his SUV looking around at all the couples. Why was it that everyone went nuts on this particular day? Couldn't they show love and affection to their significant others year round? Why did Valentine's Day evoke such panic for some couples?

"Here," Brennan said, handing him his coffee as she got in.

"Thanks."

He started driving again. He had to go back to the office, so he dropped Brennan off at the Jeffersonian. They were being cordial with each other, but their relationship wasn't the same since the whole Hannah thing. He got to his office and sat down. Then he noticed the envelope on his desk. He picked it up, looking at it. He recognized the handwriting. Frowning, he opened it.

"Oh," he said as his cocky belt buckle slid out. A note was attached to it.

 _Seeley, I found this in my stuff. Thought you'd want it back. Hannah xx_

He rolled it in his hands, looking at it. He didn't feel so cocky lately. Just knowing that she had touched it made him mad. He put it down and gripped his head in his hands. He had been lying to Brennan earlier. He was not fine. He felt broken. This day wasn't really ever his favorite day to begin with. He got up and went to the bathroom. When he opened the door, he fell into Erica's office.

"Hi," she said. He looked at her, noticing she was decked out in all pink.

"Oh no. Not you too," he winced.

"What?" she asked, looking down.

"You're into that festive crap?"

"I just like pink," she said defensively, not bothering to mention that Adam was waiting for their date. "And anyway, this isn't about me, it's about you. What's up?"

"Hannah sent me my belt buckle back," Booth sighed. "Just seeing her handwriting makes me mad."

"Hmm. That's understandable," Erica nodded. "It brings back memories."

"Not just memories. It brings back the rejection," Booth sighed. Erica waited a moment before pointing at a line on Booth's list.

"Tell me about Becky," she said.

"Oh God," Booth laughed. "That was...that was horrible."

"Go on," Erica said, smiling and leaning on her hands. Booth thought back to that memory and couldn't help but smile too.

"Becky was the first girl I had Valentine's Day with," he said.

"Why is it a regret?" Erica asked, curious.

"Because she had a bet with her friends that she would kiss me, and not only did she accomplish that, but she secretly filmed and showed everyone in our class at the next party she had. Because it was my first kiss, I royally messed it up. She had her eyes open the whole time and was rolling them while I was kissing her. I got picked on for weeks."

"And how old were you?!" Erica asked, surprised.

"Oh, twelve," Booth answered. He smirked. Erica shook her head.

"So what would you change?"

"I would not let her get the best of me that's for sure," Booth answered.

"What's the lesson here exactly?"

"Don't let your guard down around hot women," Booth replied, chuckling.

"Hmmm," Erica said. Somehow she felt there was a different message to be received, but she didn't push it.

"This one will be fun," Booth grinned.

"Therapy shouldn't be fun," Erica objected.

"And you didn't have fun?" he challenged. She blushed.

"All right, I did. Point taken. Go on, have fun."

Booth got up and went to the door. He looked back at Erica for a second before opening it.

"Sorry for messing up your plans."

"Please," she waved. "This only takes a second out of my day. Now get!" He grinned again, pulling the door open. Then he stepped into his past.

...

Booth fell through the door and crashed into someone in the hallway of his old house.

"Watch it, boy," Edwin Booth growled. Booth froze. He had forgotten all about his father being here.

"Sorry, sir," he said, looking down. Edwin continued down the stairs to the fridge. He heard the pop of the beer cap coming off. He shivered. Then he raced to his bedroom. He frantically calculated. His mother would still be here too. This was about a year before the Big Fight and two years before his grandfather told Edwin to get lost. He gritted his teeth. This was bringing back some painful memories. He shook his head then.

"Get a grip, Booth," he muttered to himself. "The regret is the kiss, not your father." He went through his wardrobe to find something to wear.

"Seeley?" Marianne said, knocking and sticking her head into his room. He turned to look at her, and he felt as though his head was being sucked into a vacuum. She looked so young.

"Yea?"

"I'll drop you off at Becky's party, but can you get a ride back?" she asked. Booth noticed she was dressed up.

"Okay."

"Thanks. I just...I have something going on," Marianne said. Booth was surprised. Why didn't he remember this?

"With Dad?" he asked, stunned. She blushed.

"If he remembers," she murmured. "Anyway, are you about ready?"

"Yea, Mom. I'm ready," he answered. He threw on what he was going to wear, and he followed her down the stairs. He caught sight of his father sitting in his regular chair drinking his regular beer and watching his regular TV show. Edwin briefly made eye contact with him, and he felt nervous suddenly.

"Have fun," Edwin said, which surprised Booth. He didn't remember his father saying that to him either. What was happening?

"Thanks, Dad," he answered, closing the door behind him.

...

Booth stood among the other kids, and even though he was trying to focus on Becky, he kept thinking about his parents. His father was doing something with his mother for Valentine's Day? His father told him to have fun? Something was off here.

"Hey," Becky said, appearing from nowhere. She was smiling at him. "Wanna see my room?"

"All right," Booth agreed. This was how it had started the last time. He followed her and noticed this time that her friends were whispering behind their hands. How had he missed that before? She closed her door behind them and turned to face him.

"I have a confession to make," she said.

"What's that?"

"I didn't just want you to see my room," she replied.

"I know," he grinned.

"I really like you. I...I wondered if you wanted to..." she trailed off.

"Kiss you?" Booth finished for her. She blushed.

"Yea," she nodded. Booth studied her for a moment. This was supposed to be his first kiss ever, but he had so much more experience now than he did before. He had two options: he could either give her one hell of a kiss and make her look foolish, or he could walk away. He chose the latter.

"You know what?" he said. "I'm really not that interested in you, to be honest. I think you should film some other poor sucker who thinks he's getting lucky."

"W-what?" she spluttered.

"That's right. I know about your little recorder. You can't fool me. I'm smarter than that. Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a party downstairs that I'm really enjoying," he finished, leaving her room without looking back. He smirked to himself. She definitely hadn't seen that coming. He went back to his friends and watched as she eventually came back down and went over to her friends. They all looked shocked after she whispered to them.

"Did you make out?" Tom asked hopefully. Booth shook his head.

"She was not worth it," he answered. For some reason, he pictured Brennan in his mind. "There's someone else better out there that I'd like to kiss."

"Dude, who?" Tom questioned, leaning in. Booth smiled.

"It's my secret."

...

He went outside when he saw Erica. She was in a taxi cab posed as a driver. He walked over to her.

"Need a lift?" she asked.

"Sure," he answered, getting in.

"Won't your ride wonder where you are?"

"I hadn't asked anyone yet. I had a feeling you might show up."

"How's it going?"

"Great. I turned her down flat. No stupid video of me at her next party."

"Nice. Good job," Erica said, driving. "Where to?" Booth gave her directions.

"I didn't realize my Dad was taking Mom out tonight," he said as they drove.

"He was?"

"I don't know if he actually did. This is new to me."

"Well, let's see what happened," Erica said as they stopped in front of his house.

"Thanks," Booth said, getting out.

"Good luck."

...

He opened the door, and it was silent. He knew Jared was with his grandfather. He wondered where his parents were. He crept inside and stepped into view of the kitchen when he saw them. He froze. His father was slow dancing with his mother in the dark. He had never seen this before. It was a little unnerving.

"I love you, Marianne," Edwin said after a moment. They stopped, and he looked at her.

"I love you, too," she replied.

"I'm sorry for the way I am," he said.

"Don't," she shook her head. "Don't ruin it. Let's just be us for a while longer."

"Okay."

"I know you're still in there, Edwin. You're just buried under so much hurt and anger."

"I'm trying."

"I know you are."

They embraced, and Booth could see just how much his mother really had loved his father. He backed away and went outside again. He ended up in Erica's office. She was looking at him while he stood there feeling shocked.

"Well?" she asked. He came in and sat down.

"I just always remembered him being mean and hurting her," he said. "I don't remember him being...intimate with her or talking about trying to be a better person."

"It's funny how all the good memories are overshadowed by the bad ones," Erica noted. Booth looked at her.

"What are you getting at?" he asked.

"You had a lot of good memories of Hannah," Erica said simply. "Don't let them all vanish from your mind simply because of one or two bad ones, just like all your memories of your father trying to be a good person are buried under all the bad ones of him being a mean person."

Booth sat there and realized he had learned a way different lesson than he had originally thought going into this session. Then he got a little angry.

"You have no idea what my father used to do to me, to Jared," he said.

"I know."

"You can't sit there and make me forget all that."

"I'm not trying to. This is about Hannah, not your father. I understand that you'll never forget what he did to you, and I'm not trying to condone anything. I'm just trying to show you that sometimes there is some good despite all the bad."

"Are we done here?" Booth asked.

"Sure."

"Thanks," he said, getting up and leaving. Erica sighed when the door shut. She hadn't meant to upset him. She got up and opened her door, re-entering her world.

"Bad one?" Adam asked. She sat down across from him at their table in the restaurant.

"He reminds me of you," she said simply.

"How so?"

"Your father," she said quietly. Adam was silent at this for a minute.

"What about him?" he finally asked.

"My client has a very similar one to yours. He even has a younger brother, like you do."

"Well, then that poor bastard has a lot ahead of him, doesn't he?" Adam asked, remembering his therapy with Dr. Tom. It hadn't been easy, that was for sure.

...

He was at the shooting range when Brennan showed up. They had finished their case to Cam's delight, and now he was trying to forget the image of his father hugging his mother. How dare Erica try to insinuate that his father was more than an abusive drunk. That's what he was, and he'd never change.

"Hey," he said as Brennan came closer. "What is that?"

"I thought you might like it," she said shyly. He stared at the box.

"Come on," he said. "I told you, I hate this holiday."

"Just open it," she said, exasperated. He obeyed. In the box was a gun, one he'd always wanted to shoot.

"Oh, wow," he said, picking it up. Brennan picked up the second one.

"You like it?"

"I have always wanted to shoot one of these," he said.

"Well, go ahead," she smiled. "I know you said today is more about the massacre than the romance, so I thought you'd like it. I borrowed them from the Roaring 20's exhibit."

"Best gift ever," Booth smiled at her. She smiled back. Then he whipped around and shot off some rounds, laughing. She joined in, and they were both laughing and hollering insults at their targets. It made him forget about Hannah and his father, for now at least.

* * *

 **I hope you all are still enjoying this story. Thanks for reviewing!**


	5. Alice

**I'm so glad to see people are enjoying this story still! I hope you like this chapter.**

* * *

Booth woke up the morning after Valentine's Day feeling oddly in a good mood. He got up and did his morning routine, wondering what the day was going to bring. He kept thinking about Dr. Erica and whether or not she was going to show up again. He found himself at a different coffee place where he ran into one of the squints. Booth wasn't particularly fond of Vincent. The guy spewed facts as though his life depended on it, and he was too jittery for Booth's liking. He hung back while Vincent got his coffee and headed for the side door. Then, to his amazement, Vincent pulled open the door, and instead of the street outside, it was a huge field.

"Aw drat," Vincent muttered. Booth stared as he walked through and closed the door behind him. He ran over to the door and yanked it open, seeing only the street outside. He closed it and opened it once more, earning some looks from the other patrons. Where had Vincent gone? Had he imagined the whole thing? Shaking his head, he went back to the line. By the time he had ordered his coffee and got it, Vincent had reappeared and was standing there looking shaken. Before Booth could open his mouth, Vincent scurried away. Curious, he walked over to the door where he could see grass. He cautiously pulled it open, and he found himself looking at a vast landscape.

"You're not allowed here," a voice said. Booth went to look who said it, but a gust of wind forced him back and slammed the door. Booth stood there feeling flabbergasted. It appeared that Vincent was doing the same therapy he was.

...

Booth kept staring at his computer monitor and not registering what he was doing. Vincent was in time travel therapy too. It made sense. He had been making amends to everyone lately for his past behavior. Perhaps that was part of it. The therapist definitely wasn't Dr. Erica. The voice had been a man's.

"Booth?"

Startled, he looked to see Sweets standing there.

"Yea?" he asked.

"You okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"Well...just with Valentine's and Hannah and all..." Sweets started.

"I'm fine," Booth cut him off. "Don't you have people to shrink?"

"You know, I really hate that term. If anything, we expand people's awareness not shrink it," Sweets said irritably.

"Yea, yea," Booth waved his hand. "Go on."

Sweets made a grunting sound before disappearing. Booth went back to thinking about Vincent. Despite not really wanting to talk to the guy, he really wanted to talk to him about this.

...

Booth found Brennan in her office examining paperwork. He studied her for a moment, wondering what she was thinking. Things had been getting a little better between them. He didn't think she was as upset like before.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, making him jump. "Booth, you scared me."

"Sorry," he apologized.

"What are you doing here? Do we have a case?"

"Um, no. I was actually looking for Vincent."

"Vincent? Why?"

"Just have a question for him."

"You don't like Vincent," Brennan pointed out, squinting at him.

"I never said that."

"It was implied."

"Well, I just want to talk to him. Where is he?"

"He's in Limbo."

"Thanks."

He turned to go before she could ask any further questions or drill him about why he wanted to talk to Vincent. He headed for Limbo, where Vincent was hovering over bones and cataloguing them.

"Hey, buddy," Booth said, grinning. Vincent looked up at him, confused. Then he looked around the room.

"Are you talking to me?" Vincent asked, surprised.

"You're the only one here," Booth answered, gesturing.

"Well, you could be seeing a ghost. Did you know..."

"I don't want to know," Booth cut him off. "I actually want to talk to you about something else."

"What's that?" Vincent asked. He was suspicious now.

"Are you...are you in therapy?" Booth questioned carefully. Vincent stared at him.

"That's kind of private business isn't it?" he responded.

"You're right. I just was curious of what kind of therapy. I was thinking of doing it myself."

"I'd really like to not discuss this further," Vincent said, going back to his work.

"I saw you," Booth blurted out. Vincent set down the bone he was holding.

"Saw me where?" he asked, looking anxious suddenly.

"At the coffee shop this morning. You opened the door and..."

"SHHHH!" Vincent burst out suddenly, moving towards the door and shutting it with a loud slam. Booth swallowed hard. Now he'd upset Vincent.

"Whatever you thought you saw, you didn't," Vincent said, shaking.

"It was a huge field. I saw it," Booth said quickly. Vincent glared. Then he frowned.

"What made you think it was therapy?" he asked.

"I...I'm doing it too," Booth answered sheepishly. "Only my therapist's office is an actual office, not nature."

"Unbelievable," Vincent said, scratching the back of his head. "So...so, you're doing time travel therapy too?"

"Yes!" Booth responded eagerly.

"When did you start?"

"A couple of weeks ago. You?"

"Six months ago. I kind of hit rock bottom when you all left the job and we were let go. As you know, I won Jeopardy and then blew it all."

"I remember."

"This is really weird," Vincent said, leaning against the table. "I never pegged you for a therapy guy."

"She came to me in the hospital. I figured I'd give it a shot. It's different than I expected."

"Yes," Vincent nodded. "It's surprising what our past can teach us now."

"It's a relief to talk to someone about it," Booth said. "I mean, Bones wouldn't get it, and I'm pretty sure Cam would call me insane."

"They don't exactly encourage us to tell others about it anyway," Vincent agreed.

"So what have you gone back to change?" Booth asked, eager to talk more about it. Vincent blushed.

"I'd rather not say. It's personal."

"Right. I get it," Booth nodded.

"I really should get back to work," Vincent said, pointing to his bones.

"Okay. Yea," Booth agreed. "Thanks for talking to me."

He left wondering what Vincent wanted to change in his past. He wondered if that's really how Vincent won Jeopardy.

 **A Week Later**

Booth was tracking Broadsky again. He wasn't having the best of luck. He was feeling like he was chasing a ghost. He knew Brennan was worried about him. He knew he was obsessing a little, but he wanted the guy gone. After yelling at Sweets and being generally irritable all day, he felt relief when he pulled open his apartment door and found Dr. Erica waiting for him.

"Hi," she said.

"You couldn't have come at a better time," Booth sighed, sitting down.

"What's wrong?"

"I just feel so...out of control. I'm watching all these targets getting killed, and I can't stop the guy doing it."

"Sounds intense," Erica nodded.

"He's taking it into his own hands, choosing who dies. It's not right. He has to be stopped."

"So, you're going to kill him?"

"If it ends that way, then yes."

"Isn't that choosing to end his life?"

"That's different," Booth snapped. "Broadsky is a murderer. I'm just doing my job."

"But he thinks his job is doing what he does," Erica pointed out.

"This is why I hate shrinks," Booth muttered.

"Because we make you look at the other side? Yea, that's such a shitty thing we like to do," Erica smirked.

"What is the regret today?" Booth changed the subject.

"You tell me," she said.

"You usually do that," he said, confused.

"All right then. Tell me about your grandmother's funeral."

"Oh no. Not that one. Not yet."

"Why not?"

"That was just such a bad day."

"Tell me. Maybe it'll help."

Booth sighed and rubbed his face. The memory flowed back easily.

"Well, Dad got so wasted at the reception that he started arguing with Mom. He threw some punches. He almost got arrested. It started one of the bigger fights he and Mom ever had. Pops was embarrassed as hell. I remember feeling so..." Booth stopped talking suddenly.

"Out of control?" Erica finished for him gently. Booth swallowed.

"Yea," he nodded. "I was just a kid. I couldn't stop him."

"So what would you do differently?" she prompted.

"I'd find a way to stop him, now that I know," Booth answered. "I'd stop him from drinking that day."

"Well, good luck," Erica said. In an instant, he was gone from her office.

...

Booth stumbled and fell face first onto the ground. There were some gasps and "oh dears" that tittered around the room.

"Get up," Edwin hissed, yanking Booth to his feet. They crammed themselves into the pew, and Booth immediately searched the room. His grandmother was in the coffin at the front. His grandfather was at the end of the pew, and Jared and his mother were on the other side of his father. Booth finally looked at his father then. It was the second time he'd seen him in over 20 years. Edwin's face was clenched, his jaw tight. Booth fixed his gaze towards the front again. He definitely felt weird being in a 10 year old's body again. He kept sneaking peeks at his father, the man he hated so much. The man who abused him and drank himself into a stupor every day. Well, he wasn't going to ruin his grandmother's funeral this time. When the service was over, Booth obediently followed his family to the car. They went to the graveyard, and he watched as they lowered his grandma into the hole. Edwin threw some dirt into it as did his Pops. Jared was next. Then Booth.

"Goodbye, Grandma," he whispered. His 10 year old voice startled him. It was so high pitched. Once it was over, they drove over to his great-aunt's place where the reception was being held. When they got inside, he hugged her and then he quickly darted to the kitchen. He grabbed the first bottle of wine he saw and ran to the sink, dumping it down the drain. He did this until all the wine was gone. All that was left would be his father's flask. He wasn't sure how to get his hands on that.

"Seeley, what on Earth?" his mother said, standing in the doorway staring at him.

"I'm doing this for his own good," Booth told her. The empty wine bottle was very incriminating in his hand. She already knew what he'd done if she hadn't watched him do it already.

"Seeley, he'll flog you," Marianne said, coming into the room and snatching the bottle from him.

"I don't care. It's better than the scene he's going to make."

"What are you talking about?"

"Forget it," Booth said, remembering it hadn't happened yet.

"Go outside and get a hold of your senses," Marianne hissed at him. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"Okay," he agreed. He stepped around all the guests, avoided some kisses and cheek pinching, and found the door. He also saw his father's coat, and he knew that flask would be in his right front pocket on the inside. Looking around first, he reached in and grabbed it. Then he fled out the door.

He was pouring it out in the grass when Erica approached him. She was dressed all in black.

"Did you do it?" she asked, tilting her head at him while he shook out the last drops of the flask.

"Yup."

"How do you feel?"

"I feel like for once I'm in control," Booth answered. He looked up at her. Man, she was tall. He hadn't realized it before. Then again, he was a kid instead of an adult, so of course he'd be shorter than her.

"It's a good feeling," she nodded.

"It is."

"You think you'll get in trouble?"

"He won't know it was me unless my mother rats me out."

"Let's hope she doesn't."

"She won't."

"SEELEY!"

"Uh oh," Booth said, recognizing his father's voice.

"Here," Erica said, taking the flask from him. "I'll hide the evidence."

"Thanks," he replied, rushing into the house. He found Edwin searching his coat pockets.

"Yea Dad?"

"Where is my...bible?" Edwin growled, checking to see if anyone was watching.

"I don't know," Booth lied. "I was outside."

"Well, I need something. There's no alcohol here at all. I'm going insane."

"Can't you make it through one afternoon without it?" Booth asked, immediately regretting it. Edwin gave him a sharp look.

"That's enough out of you," he snapped, cuffing Booth's head.

"Edwin," Marianne warned, coming up to them. "Don't hit him."

"I didn't," Edwin replied. Booth slid around them and found Jared sitting on the piano bench watching everyone. He was two years old, and he didn't talk much. Booth felt very odd looking at his little brother sitting there. He watched his grandfather walk around talking to everyone, and he could tell his Pops wanted to just lie down. He felt bad then. He hadn't realized how hurt his grandfather was after he lost Alice.

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF ME!" his father's voice exploded.

"Edwin..."

Everyone turned to see Booth's parents standing there by the door. Marianne was cowering, and Edwin looked ready to explode even further. Panicking, Booth got up and ran over to them.

"Dad, come on," he urged. "Let's go for a walk." He was very surprised with Edwin actually came with him without arguing. They went down the driveway and onto the road. Booth didn't say anything as his father marched down the road. He struggled to keep up. He missed his long legs.

"I miss her too," Booth said after a while, realizing that his father was probably grieving just as much as Pops was. He wasn't sure what possessed him to say it, but it was too late to take it back. Edwin stopped walking then, making Booth pass him before noticing. He turned and looked at his father, wondering just what he'd gotten himself into. To his surprise, his father fell to his knees and started sobbing.

"Dad?" he asked, unsure of what to do. Edwin cried, burying his face into his hands. Booth just stood there, waiting. After a while, Edwin got a grip on his tears, and he looked at his son.

"Your daddy is a f**ked up man, son," he said.

"Dad..."

"Don't ever get like this, you hear? Don't be like me. Don't throw your life away because your demons won't leave you alone. I disappointed her so much..." Edwin trailed off, choking. He got to his feet and started walking back to the house. Booth stood staring as his father's back receded into the distance, wondering if the "her" was his Mom or his Grandma. Edwin never looked back.

...

Booth was getting ready for bed when he heard crying again. He tiptoed out into the hallway and saw his parents' light on. He carefully walked to it, listening.

"I'm sorry, Marianne. I'm so sorry. I know I'm an asshole," Edwin was crying. "I just miss her so much. I let her down..."

"Shh it's all right," Marianne was saying back. Booth saw them hugging. He didn't know what it meant. He went back to his bedroom, but when he went through the door, he wound up in Erica's office. He stood there a moment, frazzled. His father's sobs rang in his ears.

"Well?" Erica asked from her desk. "Did it help?"

"I...I don't know," he answered truthfully. He sank down into the chair across from her. "I've never seen him cry before."

"It's a bit disturbing when we see our parents vulnerable," Erica nodded, remembering her own experience.

"It was weird to see him again as it was," Booth went on. "I mean, since the last time. I wasn't really afraid of him, though. I knew I'd be able to handle whatever happened."

"Just like you know you can handle this whole Broadsky thing," Erica said gently.

"Yea," Booth echoed. She had a good point.

"Well, don't die on me," she laughed nervously. "I hope to see you soon."

"You will," he promised, getting up. He opened the door back to his apartment, and he stood in the silence. It was then he realized that his father had had no control over his demons either.

...

Erica got back to her apartment and found Adam already asleep in their bed. She sat down on her couch, wondering what Booth was thinking about right now. She knew from her experience that when you learned something about your family or saw them being vulnerable, you felt really weird after. She was surprised at how well Booth was doing considering he hadn't been doing this therapy for long and how angry he got last time he saw his father being remorseful. She wondered how long before he was ready for the next step.

* * *

 **I know it's another flashback of Edwin so soon, but it just seemed to fit. Thank you for reading! If you have time to leave a review, I'd appreciate it :)**


	6. Game 6 of the World Series

**I haven't abandoned this story. I just have been really struggling lately with everything it seems. Writing this tonight was a good distraction from what I've been feeling lately. It's a bit different, and I apologize but it has Edwin in it again. It just fit with the events from the show.**

* * *

Booth was standing in the Jeffersonian when he saw Vincent come flying face first from the men's room and land hard. Brow raised, Booth went over to him. Vincent scrambled to his feet and brushed himself off. He looked embarrassed.

"Nice entry," Booth smirked. Vincent gave him a look.

"Like you've never fallen out of a doorway," he commented back.

"Oh, I have, but I'm a little more graceful than that," Booth laughed.

"If you'll excuse me," Vincent said, moving away. Booth followed.

"Is it helping?" he asked.

"Is what helping?"

"Don't play dumb," Booth snorted. Vincent stopped walking and sighed hard.

"Yes," he answered.

"Cool, cool," Booth nodded. "What's your best session?"

"That would be the one where I got to go back to the best day of my life that I could remember," Vincent answered immediately, blushing.

"Oh yea?"

"Yea."

"I didn't know you could do that," Booth mused.

"Things have been intense lately, so he let me have a nice session," Vincent shrugged.

"Interesting."

"Mr. Nigel-Murray?" Brennan asked, interrupting. She was staring at both of them, confused. Booth's interest in Vincent the past little while was mind boggling.

"Yes, Dr. Brennan. I'm on my way," Vincent bowed his head, moving away from Booth. He hoped she hadn't overheard.

"What is your fascination with him all of a sudden?" Brennan asked Booth once they were alone.

"Oh, you know. His facts make Parker laugh."

"Really."

"Yea."

Booth gave her a look, daring her to contradict him. She didn't.

"Do you feel like getting some breakfast?" she asked instead.

"Breakfast? I could use some of that," Sweets said, joining them.

"Where did you come from?" Booth demanded, trying to hide the fact he was startled.

"Just thought I'd pop by," Sweets shrugged.

"All right, let's get some then," Brennan said, moving to the door.

"I'll be right there," Booth said before hurrying to where Vincent was working.

"What now?" Vincent asked, failing to hide his annoyance.

"Is that really how you won Jeopardy?" Booth asked. He had to know.

"Using time travel? Um, no," Vincent shook his head. "I'm just that smart, Agent Booth."

"I see," Booth said, squinting at him.

"I'm not lying," Vincent sighed.

"Whatever you say," Booth commented, leaving him alone. Vincent gripped the bone in his hand and released the breath he was holding. He had thought Booth was going to ask a far more personal question, and he didn't want to answer it.

...

"A conference?" Adam asked as Erica packed.

"Yea. I think it's great. I get to hang out with other therapists, get some ideas, chat about some cases. I'm looking forward to it," Erica smiled.

"How are things going anyway?" Adam asked. He didn't like to pry into her work, but having done the therapy himself with Dr. Tom, he knew how intense it could be.

"They're okay. I'm still worried about the one."

"The guy with the killer on the loose?" Adam asked. She hadn't shared much, but he knew she was worried her client was going to die.

"Yea."

"I think he'll be all right."

"I sure hope so."

"Have a safe travel, okay?" Adam said, giving her a long kiss. "I'll see you when you get back."

"I love you," she smiled.

"I love you too," he replied, touching her cheek gently. Sometimes he couldn't believe how lucky he had gotten.

...

"You seem distracted," Brennan said to Booth at the diner. Sweets looked back and forth between them.

"Huh?" Booth asked, distracted indeed. He had been thinking about what Vincent had said about reliving the best day ever.

"You're distracted," Brennan repeated. He made a face in return.

"Just thinking is all."

"About what?" she asked.

"Ah, it's nothing," Booth replied. He had been thinking about one of his best days ever. He looked out the window, the snow coming down a bit harder now.

"Should we get back?" Sweets asked.

"You afraid of the snow?" Booth teased.

"No," Sweets said defensively.

"I'm good to leave," Brennan commented. She had some paperwork to finish. She was hoping for a quiet day.

"I'm just going to use the men's room, and I'll see you at the car," Booth said. He was lost in thought when he pushed open the door to the bathroom. It transformed instantly. He stumbled, not expecting the change.

"Surprised?" Erica asked. She was sitting at her desk with her hands folded in front of her. She looked tired.

"Um, a little," Booth admitted. "I didn't think I needed you today."

"Well, I was summoned, so something must be on your mind," she commented.

"Actually, yea there is," Booth said, sitting down across from her. "I...I was thinking about one of my best memories."

"That's a fun one," Erica smiled. She remembered hers fondly. Of course, it had changed from the first time around, but she had managed to salvage it in the end.

"I was wondering if I could do that one instead of a regular session? Something more light?" he asked hopefully.

"I think it would help you since you're stressed right now. I'm glad to see you're still alive, by the way," she added.

"Takes a lot to take me down," he smirked.

"All right then," Erica said, rolling her eyes. "What's your favorite memory?"

"It...it involves my Dad," Booth confessed. Her eyebrows rose a little.

"Two sessions in a row with your father?" she asked.

"I know," he nodded. "It's strange for me too."

"Tell me about it," she encouraged.

"We went to the Vet," he started. "Game six of the World Series. Tuesday, October 21, 1980. My Dad had stopped drinking for two weeks, long enough to realize I was there. It was the best day of my life. Our one perfect day together really."

"It sounds like a really good memory," Erica nodded. "So why do you really want to go back there?"

"I just...ever since seeing him cry I can't stop thinking that maybe you were right, that I forgot the good times we did have."

"Ah, so my techniques are actually working," Erica grinned, rubbing her hands together gleefully.

"Don't get too excited," Booth gestured. "I'm still very pissed at him."

"I'll take what I can get," she said humbly.

Booth just shook his head at her. He himself was surprised he wanted to see his father again so soon. He wasn't sure what was happening to him. Perhaps the therapy was not about what he thought it was, but then again, he did have quite a few regrets that involved his father. Maybe it was best to get it over with early and then focus on other regrets after.

"You ready?" Erica asked, interrupting his thoughts.

"Yea. Send me in," he answered, giving a curt nod. He had a spinning sensation then, and he closed his eyes.

...

Booth opened his eyes to see himself in the car waiting for his father. He was nine. He looked to see his mother holding Jared in her arms. He was barely a year old. He felt an excitement in his heart as his father waved goodbye to her and get in the car.

"Ready, son?" he asked, grinning.

"Ready, Dad," Booth answered. He beamed as they pulled away. He needed this for sure amidst all the shit he'd been dealing with at work. This was a nice break.

"Think the Phillies will win?" Edwin asked, looking at Booth in the rear view mirror.

"Definitely," Booth nodded. They chatted as they drove, and Booth couldn't remember if this had happened the first time or not. He didn't care. He just wanted to have a good day.

...

Things had been going perfect at the game. Booth had to admit that it was nice to see his father happy and cheering and not angry. Then, the man beside them offered Edwin a swig from his smuggled in flask. Booth noticed his father eyeing the flask, and his heart dropped. Had this happened before too? Booth watched, holding his breath, as his father appeared to have a mental struggle before tearing his eyes away from the alcohol.

"I'm with my son," Edwin told the man, who put the flask away. He looked over at Booth then and smiled. Booth released the air he had been holding. How did he not remember that?

"Thanks, Dad," Booth said. Edwin looked at him seriously.

"You never know. This might be the new me," Edwin told him. Booth knew it wasn't true, but he didn't want to ruin this day, so he just nodded and smiled. Then, he got bold.

"What made you stop?" he asked. He saw a shadow go across Edwin's eyes, and he regretted the question immediately. He shouldn't have pushed it. Then, Edwin surprised him.

"I almost died," he said simply. Booth stared at him.

"What?"

"Yup. I lost control of the car coming back from the bar, and my whole life flashed before my eyes."

"Wow," Booth said. He did not see that coming. What saddened him is that this newfound soberness didn't last very long.

"I don't know what made me stop exactly. I guess I just didn't want to hurt anyone behind the wheel," Edwin mused.

"Do you think it will last?" Booth dared to ask. Edwin rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"It's hard to say, son. I'm trying."

"I know," Booth nodded. He wished it had been his family that had made his father decide to stop, not the fact that he could have hurt strangers. It made him feel a little hurt. Edwin reached over and patted his knee then, smiling at him.

"I'm glad we're here, son," he said. "I really am."

Booth didn't say anything back. He felt some of his excitement leave him. Maybe this had been a dumb idea after all.

"Stay here," Edwin instructed. "I have to use the washroom."

"Okay," Booth nodded. After his father left, Erica slid into the seat beside him.

"This is a great game," she commented.

"This isn't going as well as I remembered," Booth said.

"I know. The thing is, you can't exactly live the same day again the way it was. Things change."

"Why didn't you warn me of that?"

"I'm sorry. It doesn't have to stay feeling this way."

"How do I change that?"

"Remember what made you happy about this day from before."

"Oh, okay," Booth said sarcastically. He caught sight of his father at the top of the stairs then.

"Good luck," Erica said, slipping away.

"What did I miss?" Edwin asked, rejoining him.

"Not much," Booth answered. He worked hard to keep his focus on the game and the fact his father was behaving like his father. He let his nine year old self take over instead of keeping his older self intact. It was only stopping him from being in the moment. When he was able to succeed with that, the rest of the day went very well. When they got back home, both were very high on giddiness from the game.

"Good time?" Marianne asked, giving Edwin a kiss on the cheek and ruffling Booth's hair.

"Yea," Booth answered happily. He went up to his room, and the door led him back to Erica's office.

"You're smiling," she noted. He sat down and didn't say anything for a moment. "You okay, Seeley?"

"I just am feeling all sorts of emotions right now," Booth answered.

"Did it end on a good note like you wanted?" she prompted.

"It did."

"How did you manage that?"

"I let go of the past memories and relived it as though it was my first time again," Booth answered.

"Very nice," Erica smiled. "Sometimes our previous memories about something from our past hinder new ones being made because we want them to be exactly the same when they can't be."

"Shrink talk again," he pointed out.

"Sorry," she apologized. "You made the decision to stop trying to make it the same as before because it couldn't be the same, but you still had a great day."

"I get it," he murmured.

"Why don't you tell Brennan?" Erica suggested.

"What?" he asked.

"This day. Tell her about it," Erica said.

"I don't know..."

"It might help your relationship if you let her in a little," Erica shrugged.

"I should go," Booth said.

"Sure," she nodded. When he left, she got up and pulled open the opposite door. She re-entered the conference and shut the door behind her.

...

Booth couldn't believe he was sitting in an elevator with Brennan and a bunch of seats from the Vet in a blackout. Did Erica have something to do with this?! When he saw the seats after leaving his session, he took it as a sign, and he had to have them. Now, he was sitting here with Brennan and knowing she wanted an explanation for this.

"You look like you want to tell me something," Brennan noted.

"I can't keep anything from you, can I?" he asked.

"No," she shook her head, smiling a little.

"All right," he said. "It's the seats."

"They're important to you," she nodded.

"Well, they are a reminder of the best day of my life," Booth said. He could smell the food and hear the game as he spoke. He told her about it slowly, and he saw the look in her eyes she got whenever he mentioned his father.

"It sounds like a wonderful day," she smiled.

"It was," he agreed. He knew they should be talking about their relationship, but he didn't know how to bring it up. Instead, he got lost in his thoughts again.

...

Erica looked up as Dr. Steve sat down beside her. The facilitator had talked about case transfers, and she was surprised she was getting one.

"What do you have for me?" she asked him.

"Well, it seems that you should have this file because I think it would help a client of yours," Steve said.

"Oh?" Erica asked, intrigued. She pulled the file towards her and opened it. She gasped.

"You know him?" Steve asked.

"No," Erica said, slamming it shut.

"No you don't know him or no you don't want it?"

"I can't see him."

"Why not?"

"Because it's a huge conflict with another client of mine."

"I was thinking you could do family sessions," Steve said.

"Since when do we do that?" Erica demanded.

"Well, this is kind of a special case."

"How so?"

"He...he's dying," Steve finished carefully. Erica felt her heart twist.

"What?" she asked.

"He doesn't really have long. A few months they said...possibly a year, but no longer. Look, maybe it's a conflict for you, and it probably is, but wouldn't it be good to have them reconcile before it's too late?"

"I...I have to think about it, Steve," Erica said. Her mind was spinning.

"Let me know by the end of the week," Steve said, getting up. "You can keep the file." He was gone then, and she opened the file again, looking down at Edwin Booth's face. So Booth's father was doing this therapy too. How many other times had he been on the same regret Booth had been on? Was that why his recount of his father's changes were strange to him? Was Edwin there changing it at the same time? She tried to calm herself down. She couldn't do this to Booth. He wasn't ready. Then again, Edwin was dying. She felt torn. She desperately wished she could talk to Dr. Tom. He would know what to do.

...

Booth sat beside Brennan laughing after they had burned their papers together. He felt good. They had talked about their relationship. He had relived his best day again, and they had solved the case before other people got really ill. Granted, he had been freaked out when the sick man landed on his chest, but so far they said he was okay because he hadn't physically touched the man.

"I know it's bizarre," Brennan said. "But I enjoyed this day with you."

"Trapped in an elevator?" he asked, laughing.

"Yes," she nodded, smiling. She rested her head on his shoulder then, and he felt warm inside.

* * *

 **I promise the next one will not have an Edwin Booth flashback in it lol. I don't want the focus to be solely on that relationship, but that twist was planned from the beginning. It just happened to be the blizzard episode, so it fit once more to have him in a session. Thank you to those who have been reviewing. It means a lot to me that you enjoy what I write :)  
**


	7. Teddy

**Hey all. I put this story on hiatus because it wasn't getting a lot of attention. I had some ideas, though, and I want to finish this story so I'm posting again for it for a bit. Hopefully I can finish it soon! I hope you guys are still interested. Happy reading :)**

* * *

Erica tried not to think about Dr. Steve's idea of having her take on Edwin Booth as her client. What could the man be thinking?! It would damage Booth's trust in her, and he would think it was the plan all along. No, she wouldn't take Edwin as her client. It wasn't right.

"You okay?" Adam asked her, noticing her huff of frustration.

"I'm fine. I'm just annoyed with a fellow doctor," she explained.

"What happened?"

"He's seeing the father of one of my clients, and he wants me to take on that case and get them to reconcile," Erica sighed.

"Is that even ethical?" Adam asked, surprised.

"I don't know. The rules of this therapy seem to be different for some reason," Erica said.

"If it doesn't feel right to you, then don't do it," Adam suggested.

"You're right," Erica agreed. "Thanks." She smiled at him, and he smiled back. Hearing a voice of reason made her feel better. She wouldn't do it. However, the niggling guilt was still there, telling her she would be making a mistake if she didn't do it.

...

The next few days after the incident of the elevator, Booth felt a bit lighter. Things with Brennan were better, and because they talked about their future, he felt hopeful. Maybe things weren't so damaged between them after all. He went to pick up Parker on his weekend, looking forward to spending some time with his son. It was hard sometimes to be around Parker without thinking of his namesake. Booth still felt guilty about how that went down even though Teddy had told him not to feel that way back when he was fighting for his life on the ship the Gravedigger had put him on over two years ago.

"Come on, Dad!" Parker cried. They were currently at the park playing some hoops. Booth put his focus back into the game. He threw the ball, missing the net.

"And he misses," Booth commentated. Parker grabbed the ball and threw it, getting nothing but net.

"Yes!" he shouted, fist pumping.

"Good job, bud," Booth congratulated. His head really wasn't into the game at all. "Hey, stay right here okay? I gotta use the restroom." He jogged over to the building and pulled open the door. He actually felt relief when he saw Dr. Erica's office in front of him. He looked back at Parker, who was concentrating on throwing the ball, before closing it behind him.

"Hey," he said.

"You're super casual today," Erica noted, seeing his shorts and t-shirt.

"It's my day off with my son," Booth explained.

"Oh, you get days off?" she teased.

"Ha ha," he said sarcastically.

"So what brings you here in the middle of your visit?" she asked.

"Actually...I've been thinking about Teddy," Booth answered. Erica referred to the list Booth had made of his regrets.

"Mmm, 'Teddy 2000,'" she read. "What happened?"

"He was in my crew when I was in the army. We were on a mission, and he died," Booth told her. "I blame myself for letting him come when he was inexperienced. He said otherwise."

"He did?" Erica asked, raising a brow. "When?"

"Oh, um, I had sort of a vision of him when I was drugged and left on a boat to die by a serial killer," Booth answered. She stared at him. "It's a long story."

"Okay, moving on," she said. It sounded like a scary story. "He said you're not to blame?"

"Yea. He said he disobeyed my orders to stay down, which got him killed. I just...I still blame myself, though," he finished.

"So...what would going back there accomplish?" Erica asked casually.

"I...I don't know," Booth admitted. Erica sighed.

"There's one thing this therapy doesn't do," she said. "It doesn't bring people back from the dead. Once they're dead, they're dead. It was meant to be. You can't change it."

"Not even a little?" Booth asked.

"No."

"Can I just go back and talk to him one last time?" Booth asked. Erica felt herself be taken back in time to her own conversation with Dr. Tom. She knew how it ended.

"No," she shook her head.

"I promise I won't change it," Booth said.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because...I can't trust you to not change it," Erica admitted. She pressed her fingers together.

"This is one of my regrets," Booth challenged. "I need to talk to him one last time."

"No!" Erica burst out, taking Booth by surprise.

"Did I...did I hit a nerve?" he asked, catching on. She grimaced and then growled a little.

"Trust me when I tell you that it doesn't work," she said after a moment. "You think you can handle it, that you won't change anything, but the temptation is too strong. You do it anyway, but it doesn't end like you think it's going to. In fact, it hurts even more than it did the first time."

"What are you talking about?" Booth asked. Erica closed her eyes briefly and then opened them again.

"I convinced Dr. Tom to let me go back to right before my brother died," she said quietly. "He didn't want to let me, but I convinced him I could handle it. Guess what? I couldn't. I stopped my brother from dying, and I made Dr. Tom very angry with me."

"What happened to your brother?" Booth asked, feeling a sense of doom.

"He died in the present timeline shortly after I came back. I got five minutes with him alive, and he died in a car crash shortly after. Only this time, he had more to lose, and so did we. It was heartbreaking."

"Wow."

"Dr. Tom said when someone is meant to die, they die. You can't change it," Erica finished. "So, no. I'm sorry, but you won't be going back to see Teddy."

Booth was quiet, letting it sink in.

"Then how am I supposed to fix this regret?" he asked.

"It sounds to me like you did when you saw him two years ago," Erica said gently. "You just have to believe what he said when he told you it wasn't your fault."

Booth didn't have an answer for her, so he decided to let it go.

"I guess no session today," he said.

"Unless there's something else you want to work on," she replied.

"No. Not today."

"I'm sorry," she apologized. She was looking at him sadly.

"It's all right. You're probably right in saying that I would try to save him," Booth acknowledged. "Why tempt me?"

"Enjoy the rest of your weekend with your son," Erica said, giving him a small smile. Booth stood and walked out, thinking about what she had said. Teddy had given him closure, he just had to accept it.

"Hey, Dad!" Parker called. "Your shot!" The ball came sailing over to him, and he grabbed it. Teddy would be proud of how far Booth had come. He wouldn't want Booth to stay trapped in the guilt. Maybe one day he could let it go fully.

...

Erica felt bad for not letting Booth go see Teddy, but she also knew he'd break the rules and get more hurt later like she had. She thought of Leo then, and her heart ached. She still missed him terribly, and she never knew if he had finally moved on or if he had stayed trapped in the hallway of doors reliving all his childhood memories. She hoped he had listened to her and moved on. She thought again of Dr. Tom and how angry he had been at her after she had saved Leo when she went back. His fury had scared her. She hoped she would never get that angry with any of her clients. She went back to her house and tried not to think about Leo or Teddy or Dr. Tom. Sometimes staying trapped in the past only made things worse.

...

Vincent Nigel-Murray sat tapping his feet anxiously. He had just finished his first group therapy session, and he had been shocked. He didn't know what to think, and he didn't know what was going to happen next.

"You did great," Dr. Steve said to him, clapping his arm. Vincent smiled weakly. Had he? It had seemed surreal.

"Well, off to AA," Vincent said. He had started doing that recently because of his drinking problem. He was approaching the step where he had to apologize and make amends with people. He was kind of dreading that part.

"I'll walk with you," a member of the group said, following him. Vincent only nodded. They walked in silence. It was strange, really, how they had become connected through AA and then discovered they did time travel therapy too. Was it a coincidence?

"Thank you for coming with me today in my throwback," the group member said. "It really felt good."

"You're welcome," Vincent nodded. They arrived to their AA meeting and sat down beside each other. Vincent wondered how things were going to turn out when it all came out in the open. Maybe he should start making funeral arrangements now. He was sort of afraid of the person who was obliviously involved in this.

"Ah, welcome everyone!" the AA leader started. "Let's begin! Who wants to go first?"

The group member from therapy beside Vincent stood up.

"I'm Edwin Booth, and I'm an alcoholic."


	8. Feeling Betrayed

**Yay! I'm so glad you guys are still interested! Expect regular updates for a bit as I am on a roll with this story now. I am trying to get back into my other Bones stories too so don't give up on me!**

* * *

 **A Week Later**

Erica was feeling stressed. Her deadline to telling Dr. Steve about her decision was up. How could Dr. Steve do this to her anyway? How could he drop this bomb into her lap and expect her to know what to do with it? She rubbed her forehead in slow circles as she sat at her desk. Booth would be furious if he knew. Then again, was the whole purpose of this therapy with him to have some sort of reconciliation with his father? She didn't know. She had thought it had something to do with Booth losing Hannah and still having feelings for Dr. Brennan. This whole thing was confusing. He door opened then, and she looked up, hoping it wasn't Booth. Her chest tightened. It was worse.

"Are you my new doctor?" Edwin Booth asked hesitantly. She stared. Dr. Steve poked his head around Edwin.

"Is this a bad time?" he asked. Erica wanted to hit him. Of course it was a bad time! It was an ambush!

"It's fine," she confirmed. Edwin came in with Dr. Steve and shut the door behind him, coming to sit in front of her carefully. Dr. Steve stood behind him. She guessed he thought if he made the transfer in person she couldn't refuse. Edwin fiddled with his fingers, avoiding her gaze while she burned a hole into Dr. Steve.

"It's been a week," he started.

"I said I would let you know. This is not fair, you bringing him here and putting him in the middle of this," Erica said angrily.

"I don't want no trouble," Edwin began.

"It's all right," Dr. Steve cut him off, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"You, me, hall now," Erica ordered, pointing at Dr. Steve. He followed reluctantly. She shut the door and swiveled to face him.

"I know you're angry," Dr. Steve said.

"I'm furious!" she interrupted, poking his chest with her finger. "You are making me look like the bad guy if I don't accept his case!"

"His end goal is to at least apologize to his son. I need you in order to make that happen," Dr. Steve insisted.

"No, you don't," Erica shook her head.

"I don't think it's working on our end. Have you seen Seeley behave differently about his father? Does he remember an apology?"

"I don't think so, but I don't know how it works when both are in this type of therapy together," Erica admitted. She left out that Booth was becoming a bit more willing to think a little more positive about his father, but that was all. If he had received an apology, he hadn't told her.

"I urge you to help me out," Dr. Steve implored. "Edwin really doesn't have long."

"I know! You keep saying that," Erica huffed. She raked her fingers through her hair.

"Can you at least do one session with him?"

"No," Erica shook her head. "You know what? No. Take him out of here. I need to think on this more before making a decision."

"I gave you the week you asked for," Dr. Steve protested.

"And now I need longer," Erica nodded. "I'm sorry. You need to go now." Dr. Steve made a sound in his throat of impatience, but he didn't argue. He opened the door and summoned Edwin out.

"Please hurry," Dr. Steve said before they disappeared through another door. Erica exhaled shakily when they were gone. Edwin really did look like an ill, broken man. It played on her guilt that she should help him that much more.

...

Booth was amused to hear of Vincent apologizing to everyone and making amends for things he had done while intoxicated. It had surprised him, though, to hear that Vincent was an alcoholic. He caught up to him in the hallway after Vincent was sent away from Cam's office.

"What did you tell her you did?" Booth asked.

"Oh, it's not important," Vincent dismissed.

"You're really an alcoholic?"

"I am."

"Is that part of the therapy?" Booth asked in a hushed voice, looking around.

"You're really desperate to find out what my therapy is like, aren't you?" Vincent asked.

"Well...yea. I mean, you're the only other person I know doing it. I'm curious."

"It's personal, Agent Booth," Vincent said, stopping in the hallway and making Booth's shoes squeak as he stopped abruptly shortly after.

"You can't share one, tiny thing with me?" Booth wheedled. Vincent sighed loudly and impatiently.

"Fine. Have you gotten to the group therapy part yet?" he asked. Booth was taken aback.

"What? No. There's group therapy?"

"Yes. Dr. Steve runs it."

"I...I haven't met him," Booth said.

"You wouldn't. When you start group therapy, you are with the doctor you're working with now."

"I see."

"The thing is, they don't normally start the group therapy for a while, but they decided with me that it would be beneficial to start sooner."

Booth noticed that Vincent looked nervous suddenly.

"What's that face for?" he asked.

"Well...well they said it was actually to help someone else really," Vincent said. "Another member of the group." He wasn't sure why he was doing this, revealing the truth. Oh wait, he did. Dr. Steve had asked him to try to ease Booth into it since he worked with him. That's right. He remembered now.

"That's...odd. What are you helping them with?" Booth questioned.

"It's because we are also in AA together," Vincent blurted out. "They think I can help him achieve his goal before he...before he dies."

"Dies? That's terrible," Booth said.

"Yes, um...it, it's really sad, and they picked me because I work closely with the person they want to talk to one last time before they die."

Booth looked at Vincent carefully, getting a prickly sensation on his arms.

"What?" he asked.

"I've gone on sessions with him, and I...I've seen the changes he made. They don't think it's working, though, because the other person hasn't revealed any changes in normal time," Vincent went on. "I heard they were trying to change his doctor to see if that would help."

"Who are you helping?" Booth demanded. In his heart, though, he already knew.

"Edwin Booth," Vincent whispered. Booth grabbed Vincent by the collar, making him yelp. He dragged Vincent into an empty room and shut the door loudly behind them.

"Do you mean to tell me that you've been helping my old man try to make amends with me?" Booth asked angrily.

"Yes," Vincent squeaked.

Booth was furious. Was that why Dr. Erica had really come to him? Was she in on this too? What was the big idea? He released Vincent and began to pace.

"Look, he doesn't know you're doing the therapy too," Vincent said after a moment. "Edwin, that is. He has no idea."

"So he thinks he is just going to waltz in here and apologize and make everything okay?" Booth asked, furious.

"No. He knows you won't accept that. He's been trying to change his past...things he did that crossed the line, you know? He's been changing them."

Booth stopped pacing, suddenly astonished. That was why his father was different in his own sessions. Had he been doing them at the same time as Booth? Was that why Booth's memories were blurry and feeling different? Was that why he was beginning to feel softer towards his father? Then he hardened again. It was all a trick. It had to be.

"Bull shit he doesn't know," Booth snarled. "He knows, and he's using it against me."

"He doesn't!" Vincent insisted.

Booth didn't say anything else. Instead, he yanked open the other door in the room. Not getting the result he wanted, he went to the door they came in and pulled it open. Nothing.

"They might be busy," Vincent pointed out.

Booth ignored him and went out into the hall. He ran into Brennan not too long after.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned.

Booth wanted to tell her everything, but he already knew she wouldn't believe it.

"Nothing. I gotta go. Keep me posted on this case," he said. He didn't miss the hurt look on Brennan's face when he left her standing there. He felt bad, which only put more fuel on the fire within that was raging towards his father and Dr. Erica's deception.

...

Erica braced herself when her door was flung open later that afternoon. A seething Booth was standing there. Erica had no idea how he had found out, but she just knew that it was about Edwin.

"You lied to me!" Booth shouted, coming towards her.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about," Erica said.

"When you came to me after Hannah, you said it was because I had hit rock bottom. You lied."

"How is that a lie? You did hit rock bottom," Erica pointed out.

"No, this was all an elaborate plan to get me to reconcile with my abusive, alcoholic father," Booth snarled, slamming his fists on her desk and making her jump.

"Okay, back it up," she said, recovering. "I did not lie to you. The only things I knew about your father were what you told me."

"You're talking past tense," Booth noted, jabbing his finger in her direction. "What do you know now?"

Erica knew it wasn't going to stay a secret, so she released the breath she was holding and bowed her head.

"Last week, Edwin Booth's doctor came to see me. He said he wanted me to take Edwin's case and help him apologize to you as he was dying. I swear that's all I know. I didn't know any of it when I first met you."

"I don't believe you," Booth said angrily.

"I'm telling you the truth. I've only known for a week. I was just as upset as you were that this was happening. I didn't even know your father was in therapy too until then."

"Did you take his case? What's he told you?" Booth demanded.

"I did not take his case," Erica told him. "I said it wasn't fair to you, that it would be a conflict."

Booth stood there shaking and furious.

"I'm done with this," he said finally. Erica sat up straighter.

"What?" she asked. "Done with what?"

"This therapy. I'm done. I can't trust you now, and I don't want to be involved in this plan of my father's. Forget it. I'm out," Booth said, moving to the door.

"But...there's more work to do. You can't just quit," Erica called after him.

"Our contract is over. I'm finished. Have a nice life," Booth said, opening the door and slamming it behind him. Erica sank back down into her chair and felt horrible. She had lost her client right when things were starting to get better for him. She had failed him. She should have said something about Edwin sooner. Feeling the tears come, she dropped her face into her hands and wept.


	9. Temperance

The next couple of weeks went by, and Booth was still angry. He felt relief every time he opened a door and Dr. Erica's office didn't appear. He was really finished. A small part of him felt sad, though, because he had been feeling good after his sessions. He shook his head hard. No, he was done. He had to focus on catching Broadsky anyway, which had come to a head. He was looking at his computer at photos of evidence when a knock sounded on his door.

"Yea?" he said, looking up. He froze.

"Hi," Erica said.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Look, I know you're angry at me," she started.

"I don't want to talk to you," he cut her off.

"Then just listen," she fired back, surprising him. "I know you think I was in on it. I'd feel the same way if I was in your place, but I'm telling you I had no idea. Secondly, your therapy progress was going so well, and I don't want you to give up on it just because your father wants to apologize to you. You have your own regrets to think about, not his. Lastly, I'm worried that you will fall back to rock bottom if you stop now."

"Are you done?" Booth asked when she finished.

"Yes."

"I'm not coming back," he said roughly. "And I'm in the middle of catching Broadsky, so if you don't mind..."

"You haven't caught him yet?" Erica asked, surprised.

"I will," Booth promised. "Now go away." His phone chimed. A message from Brennan asking him to come to the Jeffersonian. They were working on the latest victim of Broadsky. He stood to leave.

"I really think you could use a session," Erica said, following him.

"No. Take a hike will you? Anyone on my side is considered against Broadsky, and you don't need to get killed over that."

"Maybe I can help," Erica suggested.

"No."

They were down to his SUV by now, and he looked at her determined face.

"Please consider coming back to therapy," she urged.

"Will it get you to leave me alone right now?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Then fine. I'll consider it," Booth said, annoyed.

"That's all I ask," she nodded. He got in and squealed away. He hoped Brennan had found something useful for him.

...

A couple of hours later, Booth crashed into Erica's office. She looked up, alarmed.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"V-Vincent," he said. He started pacing quickly. "Vincent."

"Who is Vincent?"

"A squintern."

"Excuse me?" Erica asked, confused.

"He works for Bones. Worked. Oh God," Booth said, gripping his face.

 _Please don't make me leave. I love being here. I don't want to go.  
_

Vincent's voice was trapped in his head.

"Slow down and tell me what happened," Erica encouraged.

"He's dead. He's dead because of me. That's two!" Booth shouted, banging his fist against his leg. Teddy and Vincent.

"Tell me what happened," Erica said gently.

"Broadsky called me...I had him answer the phone so I could get a trace. Broadsky shot him. He...he's dead," Booth finished. Tears were in his eyes. He would never forget Brennan's face as she watched him die. He had never wanted her to experience that kind of pain from watching someone she cared about die in front of her eyes. Never.

"I'm so sorry," Erica said, holding a hand to her mouth.

"He was doing this therapy, you know? He had Dr. Steve. He was helping my father," Booth went on. "I was so mad at him. I yelled at him. I never got to apologize for that. It wasn't his fault. He thought he was helping."

"Booth, stop," Erica ordered. "It's okay."

"It's not okay! He died with me mad at him! It's not okay!" Booth shouted. Erica's own throat tightened at this.

"He knows, Booth. Okay? He knows now that you're not mad at him. You believe in Heaven right? Then he knows. He knows."

"He didn't believe," Booth said.

"It doesn't matter. I think regardless he knows. Please just breathe for a minute okay?" Erica suggested.

"Broadsky is still out there. My team is in danger. I have to get back."

"Okay, and you will. But...why did you come here?" Erica asked.

"I don't know. It just happened...your door showed up."

"Well, I'm always here. Just be careful okay?"

"I'll get him," Booth said, looking at her now. The anger in his eyes was flaming. "I'll get him for this."

"I know you will," she nodded. He flung open the door and was gone. A part of Erica feared for his life despite his confidence.

...

Everyone was so on edge about Broadsky. Booth had Brennan stay with him just as a precaution. He barely slept. All he could see was Vincent's face and eyes looking at him. He had been so angry at the poor kid, and he never got to apologize for it. He couldn't get Brennan's cries out of his mind either. A movement at his door made him jump up and grab his gun, aiming it toward the noise.

"It's me," Brennan said, holding her hands up. He lowered his gun.

"You all right?" he asked. She shook her head, starting to cry.

"No."

"Come here," he said. She moved towards him, and he pulled her into his arms. She cried and held him tightly for a long time. Booth stroked her hair gently. He found it difficult to breathe at times himself.

 _Please don't make me leave._

"He was so scared," she whispered after a while. Booth felt his stomach clench. Indeed, he had. He would never forget the look in Vincent's eyes. The pleading.

 _I love being here._

"He's in a good place now," he reassured her.

"He didn't believe in that," she argued.

 _I don't want to go._

"I still believe he's okay," Booth said back. "I have to." Brennan let it go. She was too exhausted anyway.

"What if we don't get Broadsky?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Look who you're talking to," Booth said, and she raised her head to look at him. "I always get my guy. He's going down, Bones."

"What if he hurts someone else first?" she asked. It was a fear of hers. She couldn't bear to lose anymore of her colleagues and friends.

"He won't," Booth promised.

"What if he kills you?" she asked, afraid.

"Where is your faith in me?" he asked, joking a little. He grew serious again when she didn't laugh. "Trust me, Bones, I'll get him first."

She didn't say anything for a bit. She plucked at his sheet absently.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

"I'm thinking about the papers we burned with our date on them," she replied. He met her eyes then. This was a little surprising.

"You are?"

"Yes."

He didn't say anything else. He waited for her to continue. He knew she had something else to say.

"I think it's today," she said after a moment.

"You do?"

"I guess I just don't want any regrets," she said softly. "And I really do think it's time. If I've learned anything from this and our jobs, it's that life ends suddenly, and I don't want it to end before I get the chance to be with you."

"I always said you have heart, Bones," Booth smiled. "And yea, I think it's our time too." She pulled herself up closer to him then, and for a moment they just looked at each other. Booth had butterflies in his stomach because what he had been waiting for for so long was about to happen. He didn't waste anymore time, and when his lips were on hers after years of longing to be there, it just felt so right.

...

The next day, Erica looked up again to see Booth standing in her doorway. He looked exhausted but strangely happy mixed with sadness. She didn't know how else to describe it.

"You won," she said simply.

"You bet your ass I won," he answered, grinning. Broadsky being wounded gave him a huge advantage.

"Congratulations," she nodded. He sobered up quickly, sitting down across from her.

"I still lost Vincent, though," he said. "That should never have happened."

"But it did," she responded. "You can't change that."

"So you've told me," Booth agreed. "I just can't stop thinking about him."

"You'll always think about him, but I think he'd be proud that you won," Erica pointed out. Then she looked at him more closely, noticing something in his eyes.

"Something else has happened," Erica said, peering at him. "I recognize that look. It's the 'I got the girl' look."

Booth blushed a little, and she clapped her hands.

"Yes!" she cried. "Who is she?"

"It's Dr. Brennan, my colleague," Booth answered.

"The woman who was at the hospital with you?" Erica asked.

"Yea."

"She's the other relationship you thought you'd messed up having any chances at," she commented, realizing.

"Yea."

"Well, good to hear you didn't," she smiled.

"It was rather terrible circumstances that made it happen. I wish it had happened differently," Booth admitted.

"I know."

"I don't really feel up to a session," Booth said after a moment.

"I can imagine you wouldn't," she agreed. "I'm just glad you let me know you're all right."

"It takes a lot to put me down," Booth assured her. She just shook her head, smiling.

"See you next time," she said.

"You got it," he nodded, leaving. Erica sighed when the door closed behind him. Things were moving forward for Booth. She wondered if he would change his outlook towards his father before it was too late.

* * *

 **Oye. I had to watch Vincent's death again to get his last words right. I'm still crying :(**

 **Anyway, I'm glad you all are still reading and enjoying.**


	10. Vincent

Booth jolted awake, his heart hammering in his chest and his breath coming in gasps. He clutched his chest, waiting for the fear and anxiety to start to fade like it usually did. It had been barely a week since Vincent had died. Booth dreamed of it every single night. He pressed his hand into his eyes.

 _Please don't make me leave. I love being here. I don't want to go._

Booth heard this over and over all the time. Vincent's pleading voice, his eyes wide with fright, and his blood seeping onto the floor.

"Booth?"

He turned to see Brennan looking at him, concerned. She had taken to staying with him almost nightly.

"I'm all right," he lied.

"You had another nightmare," she noted. She reached to touch his face softly.

"I just...I shouldn't have made him answer the phone," Booth said.

"You didn't know," she told him. "It's not your fault."

"Then why does it feel like it is?" he asked her. She had no reply for him. She sat up and rested her head on his shoulder, her arm looped around his back. Her presence made him feel better. He was glad she wanted to still be with him, that their first time wasn't their last time because of the danger he was in. He wanted things to work out.

"Maybe talk to Sweets about it?" Brennan suggested after a while.

"Yea...maybe," Booth agreed. He had, however, someone else in mind.

...

Erica couldn't sleep. She sat at her kitchen table looking out the window. It was well after midnight. She heard a noise and saw Adam come towards her.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "You didn't come to bed."

"I can't sleep," she answered.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"It's the same thing. My client's experiencing the murder of a colleague," Erica said. She felt the tears again. She just couldn't imagine. Losing Leo had been hard enough. She couldn't imagine what Booth must be feeling.

"I'm sorry," Adam said, putting his arms around her from behind. She leaned into him.

"I'm glad you don't do that kind of work," she said.

"Me too," he agreed.

Erica didn't say anything else, and Adam didn't either. She rubbed his hand gently with hers, giving it a squeeze every so often. She had a very strong feeling that she knew what Booth was going to want to do the next time she saw him. She just hoped she was wrong.

...

Erica hadn't slept at all hardly, but she sat at her desk because she knew he was going to find his way to her office. In the late afternoon, her prediction came true.

"You look rough," Booth commented as he sat down across from her. She stared at him.

"Looked in the mirror recently?" she asked, gesturing at his face.

"I know," he nodded.

"How do you handle it?" she questioned, curious.

"I just...one day at a time, you know? It's really all I can do," he answered, rubbing his neck.

"Things okay with you and the doc?" she asked.

"Yea. For now."

"That doesn't sound encouraging," Erica frowned.

"I sometimes worry she will decide she can't do it," he confessed. "Our relationship. I mean, she was so adamant before that it wouldn't work."

"People change," Erica pointed out. She knew that firsthand.

"Hopefully you're right," he agreed.

"So, what brings you here today?" she asked, moving on. She already knew, though.

"I want to apologize to Vincent," Booth said. Erica looked at him.

"Seeley," she said, a warning in her tone.

"I know, I know. I won't tell him, but I gotta apologize to him," Booth insisted. "I can't let him die with me being mad at him."

"How can I trust that you won't tell him?" Erica asked.

"You're just gonna have to," Booth answered. They stared at each other for a moment. Then Erica sighed. It was very against her better judgment, but she could see he was not going to let it go.

"Fine," she said. "But be warned that if you do change things, it only gets worse. Let that be enough of a motivator for you."

"Thank you for the reminder," he said. "I'm only apologizing, that's it. Please send me back to three weeks ago."

"All right," she agreed. He closed his eyes, and the room started to spin.

...

Booth fell forward and hit the bathroom sink in the Jeffersonian hard. He grunted, regaining his balance. He looked at himself in the mirror. Was he doing the right thing? He had to try. He hurried out the door. He figured that Erica knew exactly what he was doing even though he said he wouldn't, but he didn't care. In moments, he caught Vincent in the hallway.

"Hey, we need to talk," he said, pulling on Vincent's arm.

"Now?"

"Yes, now."

"Ah, all right," Vincent said as Booth yanked him into a private area. "What's this about?" He had been frightened that Booth was going to hurt him after finding out he was helping Edwin. So far he had just been getting the silent treatment.

"First of all, I want to apologize. Vincent, I know you weren't trying to hurt me by helping my father. I'm sorry I freaked at you about it. You're just trying to help."

"I wasn't thrilled at how they were trying to achieve it, believe me," Vincent said, shaking his head. "I've since quit helping."

"You know what, if you're really helping him, then keep doing it," Booth told him.

"Really?"

"Yea. I have since learned and understood that his regrets and mine are different. His don't affect mine."

"Right."

"Secondly, two weeks from today, when I give you my phone to answer here at the Jeffersonian, refuse," Booth said quickly. Vincent looked at him quizzically.

"Sorry?" he said.

"Don't answer my phone, okay? Just...don't. Better yet, don't come to work that day, okay?"

"Are you giving me a warning?" Vincent asked.

"Just a friendly reminder," Booth replied.

"I see," Vincent said. He rubbed his arm absently where Booth had pulled on it.

"You hear me?" Booth said urgently.

"I hear you," Vincent nodded. Feeling satisfied, Booth left. He knew Erica would be furious with him, but he didn't care. Vincent stared out after him, wondering what was going on.

...

Booth came back to Erica's office feeling good. She looked at him, her eyes stating that she knew what he had done.

"You would have done it too," Booth said defensively. She raised a brow.

"I did, remember? And it ended terribly. Why would you do that?" she asked, getting upset. "You disobeyed an order!"

"I had to try," Booth said. "I'm sorry. I couldn't just sit around and let him die. I didn't say what was going to happen to him. I just told him not to come to work that day."

"Oh, like he's an idiot and didn't get what you meant," Erica scoffed.

"I'm sorry you're mad at me, but I don't care. I'm glad I did it," Booth said, crossing his arms. She looked at him sadly.

"I hope you can handle the aftermath," she replied. He stood.

"It'll be all right," he assured her.

"No, it won't," she argued. "Trust me, the second time hurts much worse."

"I choose to believe it won't happen again, that his death was a mistake," Booth argued. She pressed her lips together but didn't say anything else. She really hoped he was right or at least he could handle the hurt if he wasn't. He went out the door feeling confident. He stepped into the hallway at the Jeffersonian and made his way to Brennan's office. He looked for Vincent along the way. He didn't see him, so he went inside to see Brennan. She was sitting at her desk with tears on her face holding a letter in her hand.

"Bones?" he asked, feeling wary.

"Hi," she said, wiping at her face. "Sorry. I just found this letter from Vincent."

"Vincent?"

"Yes. It was with his things here in the staff room."

"So...he's gone?" Booth asked. Brennan gave him a look as though he had lost his mind.

"Of course he's gone, Booth. He died right in front of us. Are you okay? Did you hit your head or something?" she asked, concerned.

"No, no," Booth said, shaking his head. "Sorry, I just...I had hope."

"Hope that he'd be raised from the dead? He's not your Jesus," Brennan snorted.

"Hey, don't mock the Lord," Booth said, pointing at her. She rolled her eyes and dug into the box and pulled out another envelope.

"He left one for you too," she told him, handing the letter over. He took it carefully. What had Vincent written to him?

"If it's all right with you, I'd like to read it by myself," he said as she waited for him to open it.

"Oh, okay. Of course," she nodded. She stood. "I'll just get some tea."

"All right," he agreed. When she was gone, he pulled out the letter.

 _Dear Agent Booth,_

 _You're probably reading this and feeling angry at me for not heeding your advice (yes, I figured it out). You're probably wondering why I still took your phone and answered it. Well, as it was explained, when it's your time, it's your time. I tried to change my father's death in my own past, and it ended much worse than it had the first time. I didn't want that to happen to you. My death now was hard enough (or so I assume. I don't know how I die since you didn't tell me. I can only guess it was tragic by the desperation in your voice)...I can only imagine what would happen the second time I died after avoiding my first death. Thank you for the apology, and thank you for giving me the chance to do some things I wanted to do before I died. You gave me that. Another reason I went through with my death was because the alternative was that you die, and I don't want that at all, not when you have work left to do. In that case, perhaps you'd grant me my last wish. Talk to your father. My father and I had a rocky relationship at times, and then one time we had a huge argument. I hadn't spoken to him in two years. Then he died, and when I tried to change it...well, I mentioned what happened already above. All the other times I went back, we were on good terms, and I didn't want to bring up something he had no idea about. I was too scared to find him during the two years I wasn't talking to him. Then, you pretty much told me that I'm going to die, so I went back to the time we weren't talking, found him, and he apologized to me and I to him, and we cried and talked and laughed, and I got my father back. Again, you gave me that. I guess what I'm saying is don't die with that regret, Agent Booth, the regret that you might have been able to fix things or at least get an apology from your father. From what I know about him, he really wants to make things right with you. He got lost after the war. He shared some stories. I know how much he hurt you, but I also know how much he loves you, and I think somewhere inside of you, you still love him. Give it a chance. For me? I wish you all the best in your future endeavors, and I trust that you and Dr. Brennan will figure things out. Yes, I could see it...we all could. Anyhow, give therapy another try, and remember what I said about your father. Cheers, mate._

 _Vincent_

Booth read the letter with shaking hands, tears in his eyes. So Vincent had ignored his warning. He wanted Booth to live to have the chance to finish his regrets, to talk to Edwin. He rubbed his eyes, the letter dangling in his left hand. He felt a little bit blindsided. How could he ignore the wishes of a dead man? He was also in awe at Vincent's bravery for facing certain death.

"Damn it, Vincent," Booth growled to himself. He didn't want to see his father. He didn't want to talk to his father. Why would Vincent do this to him?

"What did he say to you?" Brennan asked, returning with her tea and looking at Booth, curious.

"Ah, he just...he went on about how he looked up to me and thought I was a good friend," Booth fibbed. He folded it and tucked it into his pocket.

"You're lying," Brennan noted.

"Ah...you got me," Booth confessed. "But I can't tell you. He made me promise."

"Okay. Why didn't you just say that to begin with?" Brennan asked.

"Because I'm an idiot," Booth replied. She gave a small smile.

"I miss him," she said softly. "I know his facts were annoying, but he was so smart, and he was sweet. I wish..." She trailed off.

"I know," Booth nodded. He knew what she wished. He wished it too.

"Hey," he said after a moment. "Can we name something after him? At the Jeffersonian?"

"Like a memorial kind of thing?" Brennan asked.

"Yea. He...he was really brave, Bones, and I think he deserves to be remembered for that here forever," Booth finished.

"Absolutely. I will talk to Cam," Brennan nodded. She reached to squeeze his hand across the table. Booth rubbed his thumb over her fingers in response. He was fairly certain wherever Vincent was, he was smiling.

...

Edwin looked at the empty chair beside him throughout the AA meeting, and he felt sad. He missed Vincent. The lad was rubbing off on him, and his facts were actually interesting.

"Okay, that's it for tonight, folks," their group leader said, clapping his hands together. "See you next time."

Edwin stood and cracked his neck. He looked at the empty chair one more time before heading out the door. He stepped out into the night air and breathed in deeply. The pain stabbed him, and he winced. He sometimes felt ridiculous for quitting drinking now that he was dying, but he guessed it was better late than never. He was trying to make amends and get some quality of life before it was gone. He thought of Vincent. He almost would rather get shot than die like this. Edwin made his way to his car when he stopped. There was someone leaning against it.

"Dr. Steve?" he asked, cautious.

"No," the person replied, stepping forward. "It's me."

Edwin stared at his son, Jared. What was he doing there?

"Jared?" he asked.

"Yea," Jared nodded.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was in AA," he answered.

"You're in AA?" Edwin asked, his heart sinking. He really had failed the boys hadn't he? The pain in his heart was almost greater than the pain from his liver failure.

"Yea. I'm serious this time. I saw you, and I wasn't going to talk to you," Jared said. "But something changed my mind."

"I'm glad you did," Edwin replied.

"Who's Dr. Steve?" Jared asked.

"Oh, just one of my doctors," Edwin dismissed.

"You're sick?" Jared asked, surprised.

"Yea. I don't have long."

"Wait...you're dying?" Jared blurted out.

"That's right, son," Edwin nodded. Jared looked ill, and Edwin wanted to hug him, but he knew that was too soon.

"Does Seeley know?" Jared questioned.

"I don't know," Edwin admitted. Dr. Steve kept saying Vincent was going to help with that, but the kid was gone now. He didn't know if he had told Seeley before he died or not.

"You gotta tell him."

"I doubt he'd talk to me."

"I can tell him for you..."

"No, leave it alone, Jared," Edwin said firmly. His son looked as though he wanted to argue, but he let it go. Edwin had a feeling his advice wasn't going to be heeded, though.

"Well, I'll see you around," Jared said, not knowing what else to say.

"Yes," Edwin nodded. It pained him to see that he would spend time with his son in AA, but he was glad Jared was getting help. He didn't want Jared to follow the same path he did. He coughed roughly as he got into his car. He was running out of time, and he knew it. He watched Jared be swallowed into the darkness before starting his car and driving away.


	11. Our Baby

_I'm pregnant._

Brennan's words were stuck in his ears. She was pregnant. She was having their baby. Booth was lost in one of his fantasy dazes to the point that Sweets had to tap him on the forehead to get his attention.

"Helloooo," Sweets was saying. Booth blinked, startled. He smacked Sweets's hand away.

"What?" he asked, annoyed.

"I said I'm going for coffee and lunch did you want any?" Sweets repeated.

"No, I'm fine. Thanks," Booth added.

"Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine."

"Cos you can talk to me, you know," Sweets reminded him.

"I'm good, Sweets," Booth told him impatiently. His phone chirped. It was Brennan. He didn't want to read it in front of Sweets.

"Okay, well I'm here," Sweets informed him, slowly leaving his office.

"Got it."

Sweets left the office, his head the last thing to disappear around the door. Booth grabbed his phone and eagerly read Brennan's text. He smiled. Maybe he would get some lunch after all.

...

Erica could barely focus on her real job. She kept thinking about Booth and his father. Booth hadn't needed her for a session in a while, and she wondered if he really did need the sessions anymore because his life was in a good place now. She made it through the morning without having to be all there, and she retreated into her therapy office for lunch to just get away.

"Oh good God!" she yelped, seeing Dr. Steve in the chair waiting for her. She hadn't been expecting anyone to be there.

"I know you've said no, but do you think Seeley would go on a regret with Edwin? He really wants to show his son something," Dr. Steve explained.

"I haven't even seen Seeley in a while. I doubt he would say yes."

"Can you try? If it goes south, Edwin said he will leave Seeley alone for good."

"Does Edwin know that Seeley is doing the same therapy?"

"I just told him, that's why he asked for the favor."

"You are all kinds of unethical aren't you?" Erica asked, feeling furious inside.

"Sometimes you gotta bend the rules to get a job done," Dr. Steve shrugged. "Besides, we aren't 'real' therapists anyway."

Erica bit her tongue because he was technically right. They did not have any degree or training in therapy. Their type of therapy was unheard of to most of the world, but Erica still wanted to be ethical about it.

"That's your problem, then," she said.

"Just ask him," Dr. Steve ordered. She crossed her arms.

"If he comes back, I might mention it."

"You infuriate me, Erica."

"Right back at ya," Erica scoffed. Dr. Steve got up and pushed past her.

"See you soon," he said over his shoulder. Erica didn't respond. She had no idea how she was going to ask Booth to see his father let alone do a regret with him.

...

"Are you nervous?" Brennan asked Booth, who was pacing a little. He looked at her.

"Me? No."

"It's an ultrasound, not a bomb going to go off," Brennan joked.

"I know," he retorted, but he smiled.

"You've been through this before," she pointed out.

"I remember," he nodded. Rebecca had been crying. She had had mixed feelings about being pregnant.

"I wonder what my mother felt," Brennan said suddenly, her hand on her belly. Booth looked at her, feeling stupid for not realizing she would be thinking about her own mother when she was going to become one.

"I bet she was nervous and excited and scared and happy," he replied, moving to kiss the side of her head.

"I am all of those things right now," Brennan admitted.

"I know it wasn't planned, but it feels right somehow," Booth told her.

"I agree," she smiled up at him. His heart ka thunked inside. Sometimes he still couldn't believe she wanted to be with him, that she hadn't left yet stating it was not going to work.

"Okay," the doctor said, coming in then. "Who wants to see their baby?"

Within moments, the whooshing sound of a little heartbeat pounding strong was echoing in the room. Brennan squeezed Booth's hand very tightly, tears in her eyes.

"That's our baby," he said to her, still feeling awestruck that they were together and doing this.

"Yes," she nodded. "That's our baby."

...

A few weeks later, they decided to tell the rest of their friends. Brennan hosted at her apartment. It wasn't decided yet where they would live together, so they traded back and forth between apartments.

"So what is the big news?" Angela asked, holding little Michael Vincent in her arms. Booth was glad they gave their son Vincent's name as a middle name. He knew Vincent would have been honored.

"Yea, tell us," Cam ordered. "We can't guess anymore."

"You wanna?" Booth asked Brennan, who smiled.

"All right," she agreed. She turned to the side and pulled her shirt tight, running her hand over her belly.

"I suck at charades," Sweets said. "Ummm, you've lost weight?"

"You're bloated?" Hodgins asked. "Are you lactose intolerant? That's the news?"

"Wow, you guys are terrible," Booth snorted.

"Baby!" Cam shouted, pointing and jumping to her feet.

"Oh my God!" Angela shrieked, instantly putting Michael Vincent into the arms of a stunned Hodgins and standing also.

"Baby?!" Sweets asked, incredulous.

"That is correct," Brennan nodded. "Booth and I are having a baby together."

"AHHHH!" Angela squealed. Her and Cam practically crushed Brennan at once with their hugs. Sweets pulled Booth into a manly hug. Hodgins pumped his hand up and down excitedly.

"Sorry I said she was bloated," he apologized.

"Stop saying bloated," Booth ordered. He associated victims of drowning with that word for some reason. It made him nauseous.

"Got it."

"I'm so happy for you," Angela said, hugging Booth now. It was very tight.

"Thanks, Ange," he grinned. Cam hugged him next.

"You two are going to be amazing parents," Angela went on. Booth and Brennan smiled at each other. He couldn't agree more.

...

Edwin coughed long and hard. Specks of blood flecked his hands, and stared at them. A part of him was scared to die, but another part of him felt it was due time he left this Earth. Jared talked to him at the meetings sometimes, and each time he pressured Edwin to tell Seeley he was dying. Edwin was holding onto hope that Seeley's doctor would convince him to go on a regret with Edwin. If it didn't happen, then it didn't happen. Edwin didn't want to make Seeley do anything he didn't want to do. He understood. He pulled out a piece of paper and began to write. If he didn't see Seeley before he died, he at least wanted to leave him a note.


	12. Edwin

**Yes, a quick update! I have been in a car for 3 days, so I had lots of time. It will be a bit before I update again, though, as I am on vacation now. Things get a bit AU in this chapter. You will see why when you get to that part. Happy reading!**

* * *

Booth was surprised when he opened the door to his office a few days later and found Erica's instead. He had been lost in his thoughts about when and how to tell Parker about the new baby. He hoped his son would be excited. He knew Parker loved Brennan. He was also thinking about his father. He has thought of Edwin the first time he was going to be a father. He guessed it was something that happened to people becoming parents the first time and again after.

"Hey," he said. "I didn't think I'd see you again."

"I didn't either. I only come when I'm called," Erica said, gesturing to the chair in front of her.

"But...things are going well," he said, confused.

"Obviously something is on your mind," she responded. He sat heavily. Of course she was right. Something was on his mind.

"Jared came to see me the other day," he finally said.

"Your brother? Is he okay?" Erica asked. She remembered Booth's regret session regarding Jared.

"Yea. He's in AA and doing well. He and Padme are even doing a lot better, which I'm glad for," Booth said.

"But...?" Erica prompted. There was definitely a "but" hanging there.

"He wants me to talk to my father," Booth sighed. "He told me that he's dying, which I already knew from Vincent."

"And what do you want to do?" Erica asked him.

"I don't know," Booth said truthfully. "I'm going to be a father again myself, and it's making me think of some things."

"You're expecting?" she asked, surprised.

"Yea," he nodded sheepishly. "I got Bones pregnant on our first night together."

"Is she happy?"

"She is."

"Are you happy?"

"More than anything."

"Well then, congratulations," Erica smiled. "I'm happy things are going well for you."

"Thanks. I guess I keep thinking that this business with my father is the only real big thing left to finish, you know?"

"Well, I can help," Erica said slowly. "You know that his doctor has approached me. He still wants you to do a regret with Edwin if you're up for it."

"I don't know if I am," Booth admitted.

"It's a big step, but obviously it's something your father wants you to see," Erica pointed out. "Maybe it's to help you see where it went wrong?"

"I don't know. I have a hard enough time imagining my father as a decent man," Booth said. He felt the anger hovering again. He swallowed hard.

"I can set this up, and if you don't want to follow through, you don't have to," Erica said gently.

"I gotta do it for Vincent," Booth said after a moment. He looked up at her. "He wanted me to fix it or at least hear the apology. He told me so. And if he can be brave and face his death knowing it was going to happen, then I can talk to my father."

"You still think about him a lot?" Erica asked softly.

"Every day," Booth answered. She bowed her head.

"So do I," she admitted.

"Really? You don't even know him," Booth said, surprised.

"I know. I just...it reminds me of Leo, you know? Life is so short and precious. I think we forget that when we're busy with whatever it is we're doing," she commented.

"You were close with your brother?"

"He was my best friend," she answered.

"I'm sorry you lost him."

"Me too."

They looked at each other for a moment until Booth gave a tight nod.

"Set it up," he said.

"Okay," she bobbed her head. She hoped it would go well.

...

Edwin raised his head to see Dr. Steve come through his closet door.

"I didn't expect you," he commented.

"He's agreed," Dr. Steve said, cutting to the chase. Edwin sat up straighter.

"He what?"

"He agreed. Come on before he changes his mind," Dr. Steve urged. Edwin got to his feet and scrambled after Dr. Steve through the door. He was going to see Seeley. It had been a very long time. He felt very nervous.

...

Booth hated that he couldn't even tell Brennan about what he was doing. It was part of the contract unfortunately. He kissed her goodbye and tried to act casual and cool as he walked towards the door of the room where his father was going to be when he walked through it. He was shaking inside.

"Seeley," Erica said when he came through. When he saw Edwin standing there, Booth felt all sorts of different emotions. His father looked old and unwell. He also looked nervous. Booth straightened his back. He would not show he was nervous too.

"Glad you could make it," Dr. Steve said. "I'm Dr. Steve."

"Let's get on with it," Booth said abruptly. Edwin stifled a chuckle. Some things stayed the same.

"Okay," Dr. Steve said, clapping his hands together. "This is going to be a little bit different than what both of you are used to."

"What?" Edwin asked, confused. Booth cringed inside at how raspy and weak his father's voice sounded.

"Yea, what?" Erica echoed Edwin.

"You haven't been taught this style yet," Dr. Steve said to her smugly. "But you will I'm sure."

"What is it?" Erica pressed.

"So, normally you go into a session and you are back repeating a memory but fixing a regret," Dr. Steve began. "This time, you will be only observing Edwin's memories, not participating in them."

"Do I control them?" Edwin asked.

"Yes. You control which memory to go to. You tell the story," Dr. Steve nodded.

"All right," Edwin said, understanding.

"We don't have to hold hands do we?" Booth asked. He didn't want to touch his father in any way.

"Just grab onto his shirt," Dr. Steve said. "You need some sort of contact to travel together. Don't travel without being connected."

"Why?" Booth asked.

"Well, you might get left there," Dr. Steve replied.

"Great," Booth growled. Watching his father's life forever. That sounded like fun.

"Okay, you ready?" Dr. Steve asked, ignoring him.

"I guess," Booth reluctantly agreed. Edwin offered his sleeve to hold onto, and Booth gingerly took it.

"Three, two, one," Dr. Steve said. The room spun. Then they were gone.

"You never said you were doing a different therapy style," Erica accused when they were alone.

"It's the fastest way to do what Edwin wants," Dr. Steve shrugged.

"And if Booth gets left in there?" she pressed.

"Let's just hope he doesn't get left behind."

...

Booth and Edwin landed on their feet hard. Booth got his bearings quickly and looked around him, releasing his father's sleeve as though it burned him.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Vietnam. 1971," Edwin answered. Booth swallowed. Why was his father taking him back this far?

"You trying to show me how the war turned you into an asshole?" he asked.

"I'm trying to show you the truth," Edwin answered. He looked around for who he was trying to locate. Booth felt confused. He didn't know why they were there. Suddenly, Edwin stopped and stared. Booth narrowly avoided crashing into him. He saw what his father was looking at. It was a very young version of himself.

"How old are you?" Booth asked.

"I am 21 years old here," Edwin answered. "I signed up as soon as I was allowed. Pops fought when it first started, so I wanted to as well."

"So what are we doing here?" Booth questioned.

"This is where it all started," Edwin replied. They watched Edwin rush up to another pilot, who laughed when he saw him.

"You're in no state to fly," the pilot said. He was stocky but fit, and his dark hair was in his eyes with the wind. He swiped it away. Booth felt this man was familiar somehow, but he couldn't figure it out.

"I'm fine," young Edwin stated. "It's my mission."

"I got it. I covered for you. Just go sleep it off and get back up there for the next one, okay?"

"No, it's not okay. You shouldn't have covered for me."

"Edwin, you were celebrating your engagement. You had a bit too much. It's all right, really. You can owe me one," the pilot winked at him.

"All right, Seeley. I will owe you one," young Edwin said. Booth froze. What had he called the pilot? He dared to look at Edwin, who had tears in his eyes.

"What is this?" Booth asked. "Are you showing me my namesake? Is that it?"

"Just watch," Edwin replied. "And hang onto me. We gotta move a bit forward."

Booth reluctantly took hold of Edwin's sleeve, and they moved forward. The people raced around them like crazed rats in a maze. It seemed so surreal. Edwin stopped it about 48 hours later, and they watched as young Edwin stormed into view.

"Where is Seeley?" he asked one of the men who was standing there. Booth had a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"I'm sorry, mate," the man answered.

"No," young Edwin said. "He's not..."

"He got shot down. We didn't see it coming."

"No."

"I'm really sorry. I know he was your best friend."

"NO!"

Booth felt Edwin cringe beside him, and he saw his father was openly crying now. Booth didn't know how to react. He wasn't used to seeing his father cry. Instead of saying anything, Edwin simply held out his arm for Booth to grab onto as they went forward again. This time, they were at a funeral.

"Damn you!" a young woman was screaming. She was hitting young Edwin with her fists as hard as she could. "I know this is your fault!"

"Betty, please," young Edwin tried.

"No! He covered for you like he always did, and he paid the price for it. You killed my brother! I hate you! I never want to see you again!" Betty screamed. She hit young Edwin one more time before yanking off a ring and hurling at him.

"Betty..."

"We are OVER. You hear me? OVER!"

"Betty!"

Booth felt even more confused. His father had been engaged to someone else? Where was Marianne? Edwin followed young Edwin back towards the grave where another young woman was standing and crying. Booth recognized her outline, and he tensed. What was going on here?

"Marianne," young Edwin said, stopping a little ways beside her.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do now," Marianne cried.

"I'm so sorry..."

"It's not your fault. It's war. I knew what I got myself into when I married him."

What? Booth stared. Marianne had married someone else?!

"I miss him so much," Marianne whispered. Young Edwin put his hand on her shoulder, and she turned to hug him tightly.

"I miss him too," young Edwin replied.

"Edwin, I haven't told anyone yet, but I'm expecting," Marianne said, putting her hand on her belly. Booth felt tingly all over. What? He had a half sibling? He was so confused.

"No," young Edwin said, despair in his voice.

"Yes. I'm due in November."

 _November?!_

"I will help you with whatever you need," young Edwin told her firmly. "I promised Seeley I would look after you if anything happened to him."

"Okay," Marianne nodded, sniffing hard.

Edwin held out his arm again, and Booth took it shakily.

"What's going on?" he asked his father.

"Not yet," Edwin answered. They flashed forward to a hospital room where Marianne was holding a baby boy. Young Edwin was standing beside her.

"He's beautiful," young Edwin said to her.

"He looks just like him," Marianne said softly.

"What's his name?"

"Seeley," she answered.

"After him."

"Yes."

"He'd love that."

"I know."

There was silence for a bit before she spoke again.

"Edwin, I can't do this on my own."

"I know, Marianne. I've been doing a lot of thinking, and I know it's not ideal, but I am willing to marry you and support you. I know I'm not Seeley, and you will probably never love me the way you loved him, but I don't want you to do this alone," young Edwin said.

"Edwin, I can't let you do that."

"Marianne, you need a husband. I'm a good guy. We all grew up together. I did have a crush on you before you got with Seeley," young Edwin admitted.

"You did?" she asked, surprised.

"I did."

"Well, I suppose if Seeley hadn't been around, we might have become an item."

"Believe me, I'd rather Seeley be here than me," young Edwin told her. She took his hand and squeezed it.

"You're his best friend, and you're looking out for me."

"If the roles were reversed, he'd do it for me. Then again, he couldn't have married his sister," young Edwin joked. Then he grew somber.

"You really mean it, don't you?" Marianne asked gently.

"I do. If we grow to love each other, then that's a bonus, but I don't expect that," young Edwin said quickly.

"I've always had a soft spot for you. It could happen."

"I know it's a lame proposal..."

"But I'm saying yes," Marianne finished for him. Young Edwin couldn't help but smile.

"What the hell is this?!" Booth demanded as Edwin hit pause. He looked at Booth.

"Your birth father, my best friend, died because of me."

"So you just marry his wife and pretend to be him?!" Booth asked, incredulous.

"I never pretended to be him. You saw. Marianne took me as I was."

"I don't believe this," Booth said, grabbing his hair anxiously.

"Marianne and I eventually fell in love. I felt guilty every single day for taking away her true love, though," Edwin went on. "We had Jared together, but I started to go down a bad path. I saw Seeley everywhere. It didn't help that you were named after him. I had nightmares of the war. I had nightmares of Seeley trying to kill me for letting him take my place and die. I saw him in you all the time. I dived into the bottle because I felt I belonged there, it was what cost me my best friend. Half the time when I was raging against you kids and Marianne, it was because I was back into the war. I wasn't seeing you guys at all. I was seeing the enemy. I was seeing myself."

"I don't believe this," Booth said again. He felt sick. He felt as though the rug had been ripped out from underneath him. "So, you're not my real father?"

"No," Edwin shook his head. "I blamed myself every day for Seeley's death, and I hated myself for slipping into the life he was supposed to live. I was on self destruct mode, and Marianne eventually left, as you saw. Then Pops took you kids from me, and I really let myself go. I deserve to die this way, Seeley, because I did this to myself."

"Why did you show me this? I don't want to know this," Booth said angrily.

"I'm so sorry, Seeley, for treating you the way I did. I'm sorry I never told you the truth. I'm sorry I was a coward and a drunk and an abusive man. I'm sorry I let your real father die so you didn't get to meet him. I'm sorry for everything, but please know this, I do love you like my own son. You are so much like your father, and I loved him too. I owed him one, and I screwed it up so bad. I should never have married Marianne. It was a stupid idea, but I was young and stupid and only wanted to help her out. I'm so sorry," Edwin finished.

"Sorry doesn't change what happened."

"I know."

"Sorry doesn't change the fact that you're not my real father."

"I deserve that," Edwin agreed, bowing his head.

"Does Jared know?"

"No."

"My head hurts," Booth said, gripping it.

"I don't have anything else to show you. We can go back now," Edwin said, holding out his arm. Booth grabbed it, and they crash landed in Erica's office.

"Are you all right?" Erica asked Booth, worried. He moved far away from Edwin.

"Seeley," Edwin tried.

"Don't talk to me," Booth cut him off.

"I take it things didn't go well?" Dr. Steve asked.

"Shut up,"Erica snapped at him. "I told you Seeley wasn't ready."

"He's not my father," Booth said, making them both turn to look at him. Erica was shocked.

"What did you say?" she asked.

"He's not my father. My father died covering for this man's hangover," Booth told her.

"I still raised you..."

"I don't care," Booth said loudly over him. "You did a real shit job of it."

"I know."

"You can rot."

"I know."

"I want to leave," Booth said to Erica.

"Of course," she nodded. She walked him to a door. "Please come talk to me whenever okay?"

Booth didn't answer. He went through the door without looking back. Edwin had thrown his world for a loop, and he didn't know if he could ever get it back upright again. One thought kept burning into his mind, though. He spent years fearing he would become like his father, and here he just learned that Edwin wasn't his real father. So...

Who the hell was he now?

* * *

 **I have been toying with this idea for a while, and I was originally going to do a separate story of Edwin's life and have this happen, but it just seemed to fit here better. I hope it's not a farfetched idea. I do like my twists, as some of you know!**


	13. Parker

"Booth?"

Edwin wasn't his father. He wasn't technically a Booth boy. What did this mean for him?

"Booth?"

And Parker. Parker wasn't a Booth boy either. This was a real mess.

"BOOTH!"

"Yea?" he said, snapping his attention back to Brennan sitting across from him at the diner. She was looking at him concerned.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked.

"What? No. Why?"

"You have been distant since we told everyone about the baby. Are you angry that it's happening?" Her face showed a little bit of hurt.

"Oh my God, no, Bones," Booth said, reaching to grab her hands with his. He squeezed them tightly. "I am not mad at you. Not at all. I'm just...I've got something on my mind."

"Is it your father?"

"Well...yea," he nodded. She made a sympathetic face.

"You're worried you're going to be like him," she confirmed. She knew it was a big fear of his. Was it still a fear now that Edwin wasn't his real father? He did have a point. He did raise Booth. Well, he was there when Booth grew up. There was a difference.

"I talked to him," Booth blurted out.

"Your father?" Brennan asked, surprised.

"Yea. He...he told me he is dying."

"Oh. I...I don't know what to say," Brennan admitted.

"It's okay. He also told me that he's not my real father."

"Wait...what?" she asked, confused.

"Yea, I was like that too," Booth said, rubbing his face with his right hand. He still had a hold of her hand with his left one.

"Did he tell you who your real father is?"

"I only know that they were friends and served together and that his name was Seeley," Booth finished. Brennan looked surprised at this.

"You didn't get a last name?"

"I pretty much left as fast as I could," Booth replied.

"Is he still alive?"

"No. He died doing what was supposed to be Edwin's mission because Edwin got too drunk the night before celebrating his engagement to Seeley's sister. Seeley was married to Marianne, and they were having a baby: me. Edwin married Marianne to do Seeley one last favor by looking after her. The thing is, he didn't do that very well. His reason is that he was beating himself up for letting Seeley do his mission and dying. He also said half the time he was beating on me, he was seeing the enemy that he had killed at war."

"That can be an effect of trauma," Brennan nodded.

"So now I don't know what to do or what to think," Booth went on. "I'm not a Booth. I don't know who I am."

"Maybe you should go talk to Hank," Brennan suggested.

"And tell him I'm not really his grandson? That would break his heart."

"He might already know."

"I doubt it."

"I think talking to him would help you right now," Brennan urged. "Please." She looked him in the eye.

"Okay, I'll go talk to him," Booth agreed after a moment. "And do not ever think that I am upset about having this baby with you, okay?"

"Okay," she nodded. He stood to leave, giving her a kiss goodbye first. He was going to see Hank.

...

Erica was flustered. First, Dr. Steve shows her a whole new type of therapy. Then, Edwin tells Booth he's not his real father?! Oye. Her head was spinning. She didn't know how Booth was doing. He hadn't shown up in her office since. Granted, it had only been a few hours since he found out. She imagined he was trying to make sense of it all. Edwin had been visibly upset when he left with Dr. Steve. She wondered what all he had done on his regret therapy and if he had succeeded.

"Helloooo?" Adam's voice cut into her thoughts. She blinked at him.

"Huh?"

"I said, do you want pizza or Chinese for dinner?" he repeated.

"I'm actually not really hungry," she answered. He looked at her.

"Not hungry for pizza or Chinese? Something must be really wrong," he said. "What's up?"

Erica kept it short and sweet, not giving names or anything. At least she could talk to him about it. He had gone through the therapy too with Dr. Tom. It was how they had met in the group therapy part.

"That is rough," Adam said when she was finished. "I have to admit, though, I wish someone would tell me my father wasn't really my father."

"I know," Erica nodded. Adam's father was a very abusive man as well. She figured Adam could relate well to Booth in a way.

"So where is his real father?"

"He's dead."

"Aw man," Adam winced. "That is terrible."

"I think I'm gonna skip eating," Erica said, ignoring the hunger in her stomach. She just didn't feel like eating despite feeling hungry.

"No, no," Adam shook his head. "That's the last thing you should do. Just eat a little bit. You gotta."

"I don't know if I'm cut out for this anymore," Erica admitted. It had seemed amazing when she had become a therapist after finishing her own therapy. She hadn't even started any group therapies yet, but it seemed daunting now.

"I think you just need to separate yourself a little bit from your client," Adam said. "You're getting too involved."

"Is this how Dr. Tom felt?" she asked.

"I think at times, yes. It's something you work at," Adam replied.

"All right. Well, talk to me about pizza then," she said, changing the subject.

"Okay," he grinned. "Pizza it is."

Erica tried to put Booth in the back of her mind, but she still couldn't help but wonder where he was right now.

...

"Shrimp!" Hank cried happily, seeing Booth at his door. "How are ya?"

"Hey, Pops," Booth said. He felt better just seeing him. He hated seeing him in a nursing home, but he knew it was for the best.

"What brings you by?" Hank asked, gesturing to the chair across from him. Booth sat down, and he started fidgeting with his fingers immediately.

"Uh oh," Hank said. "I recognize that look. What's going on, son?"

"I saw Edwin today," Booth said, stilling his fingers and looking at Hank.

"I see," Hank said seriously. "That must have been difficult for you."

"It was."

"I assume you know he is dying?" Hank asked. Booth paused, surprised that his grandfather knew.

"How did...?"

"Ah, Jared came by," Hank answered, smiling. "It's good to see Jared cleaning up his act, by the way."

"Yea, it is."

"He's a good lad. He just got mixed up is all. Same as your father, but your father got too far lost to come back."

"He...he's not my father, Pops," Booth said quietly, not looking at him. Keeping that a secret from his grandfather was impossible. He saw that now.

"Excuse me?" Hank asked. "What did you say?"

"Edwin is not my real father," Booth repeated, finally looking at Hank, who pressed his lips together and then sighed loudly.

"I see."

"Hang on, did you...did you know?" Booth asked, recognizing the look on Hank's face.

"I did," Hank answered.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Booth asked angrily.

"Would it have really made a difference?"

"I like to think so."

"Seeley, you were raised by Edwin. Yes, he was terrible at it and failed at it and hurt you, but he still raised you."

"But my real father..."

"Seeley Wells was a good man, yes, but he did not raise you, and he never met you. You have his DNA, but you don't have anything else from him that made you who you are."

"I don't know who I am," Booth admitted, his throat tight.

"You are Seeley Booth," Hank told him. "You are an agent of the FBI, you were a sniper, you have a brother, and you have a son."

"Actually, Pops, I'm going to have another child," Booth said. "With Bones."

"The pretty bone lady?" Hank asked, perking up. "Temperance? Really?"

"Yes."

"I knew it!" Hank cried, reaching to playfully punch Booth's shoulder. "You see? You're not your father, and you're not your biological father. You are you, Seeley. That's what is important. A last name doesn't make you who you are. It's just a name."

"You really think so?"

"I do. Some people have great pride over their name, yes, but in the end, it's just a name. The world and our experiences in it shape us into who we are, not just our parents. If you want to go by Wells, then that's your business, but it doesn't change who you are, Shrimp," Hank finished, looking at him solemnly.

"I feel a bit better," Booth said to him after a moment. Brennan had been right. He had needed this.

"Wells was your father's best friend. He was mischievous and smart as a whip," Hank went on. "He loved life with all his heart, and he loved your father. They might as well as been brothers. Seeley was an orphan, you see. He and his sister were in foster care, and they were split up for a while until they found each other later and were old enough to live together and support each other. He came to me for a lot of advice. If I could have adopted him, I would have. Then he would have been a Booth boy legally. In his heart, I think he felt he was because he always said Edwin was like a brother to him and I was like a father to him."

"His death must have really been hard for Edwin," Booth said. He still couldn't say "father."

"Oh God, Shrimp, it killed him. I didn't think it was wise for him to marry Marianne, but he did anyway believing he had to do right by Seeley. They looked like they were doing well for a while, but then the demons got Edwin, and he let himself get taken away by them instead of fighting for what he had in front of him. It broke my heart."

"I never thought I'd ever say I feel sorry for him," Booth confessed. "But I'm starting to."

"We're all human, Seeley. We all fall short, but he's trying to make amends."

"He came to you?"

"He did."

"He's really dying."

"He is."

"I got an apology from him. I don't know if I want to see him again."

"And that's fine. He got to apologize, and that was what he wanted to do."

Booth sat there for a moment while Hank watched him. His grandfather had said a lot that made sense. He was starting to relax. If he didn't want to see Edwin again, he didn't have to.

"Thank you for the talk," he said finally, looking at Hank.

"Anytime, son. Say hi to Temperance for me."

"I will."

...

A few days later, Booth had Parker for the weekend. Brennan was excited to tell him about his new baby brother or sister, and Booth was feeling anxious. Would Parker be upset? Would he be happy? He liked to think his son would be happy, but he also knew that sometimes siblings didn't want to be a sibling.

"What's going on?" Parker asked, looking back and forth between Booth and Brennan, who were standing in front of him while he sat on the couch.

"Parker," Booth started. "We have some news."

"What, what?!" Parker asked, bouncing in his seat. He had taken the news of them dating very well. He claimed he had wished it to happen.

"You're going to be a big brother," Booth told him. Parker paused, his face in an "oh" before it broke out into a huge grin.

"Really?!" he cried.

"Yes, really," Booth nodded.

"Yes! I'm gonna be an older brother!" Parker yelled, pumping his fist.

"I'm glad you're okay with this," Booth said.

"Why wouldn't I be okay with it? I always wanted a brother or sister. I want a sister, though," Parker added. "Sisters are cool."

"Well, we don't know yet, so it could be a brother or a sister at this point," Brennan laughed.

"That's okay. I would rather a sister, but a brother is also cool."

Booth grabbed his son into a bear hug after Parker jumped around like a kangaroo at the news. He had been doing a lot of thinking about what his grandfather had said, and it was true. Booth was Booth. He was who he was.

"I think it's time for bed," Booth said, ruffling Parker's hair.

"Awwwww really?"

"Yea. Sorry, bud."

Parker went about his routine of bedtime while Booth looked at Brennan, who was smiling at him.

"That went well," he said.

"I told you he'd be fine," she responded.

"Yea. I don't know why I was so worried."

"You're really going to miss him when he goes to England," Brennan noted.

"So much. I still can't believe Rebecca is doing that to me," Booth growled. Brennan gave him a hug because she didn't know what else to do or say. Booth felt weak when it came to Rebecca. He hated that.

"Enjoy the time he has left here. Soon he will be old enough to decide where he wants to live," she reassured him. It was a small comfort, but she had a point. He would be old enough soon to decide where he wanted to live, and he had a feeling he would pick living with Booth. Lost in his thoughts, Booth went to open the closet door when he found Erica's office behind it. Checking to make sure Brennan wasn't watching, he went in and closed the door.

"How are you?" she asked.

"I feel a bit better about the whole Edwin isn't my father thing."

"That's good."

"I talked to my grandfather about it. He said that my real father was like a son to him."

"That must make you feel good knowing he was a big part of your family's life."

"Yea, it does. I'm not so anxious about it now. I kind of understand why Edwin went down the path he did. I keep thinking that if I lost my best friend who was a brother to me, I might never be the same either," Booth finished. He thought about his gambling addiction. Would he have let that take over his life like Edwin let drinking take over his?

"I'm so glad for you. So what brings you here tonight?" Erica asked.

"I'm mad at my ex."

"Ah, Rebecca?" Erica questioned, looking at Booth's list. Her name and a date was on it.

"Yes."

"Tell me about it."

"We got into this big fight once, and I let her win. I didn't stand up for myself, and I feel like ever since then, she has walked over me and made me feel like a weak man."

"So you want to change the outcome of that fight?"

"I do."

"Then let's get started," Erica smiled. He told her the date and time, and she snapped her fingers. Booth felt the familiar sensation of spinning, and he soon found himself standing right in front of Rebecca as she pointed a finger in his face.

"You can't talk to me like this," Booth said instantly. She froze, glaring at him.

"Excuse me?" she demanded.

"I'm only here for a brief visit, and I just lost Teddy, and you're yelling at me over what, a date I missed? I said I was sorry," Booth finished.

"It's the principle!" she shrieked.

"I don't have to take this," Booth said, moving to the door. "We can talk when you've calmed down."

"Calmed down?!"

"Yes, Rebecca. You need to take a breather. Let's come back and talk once we've both had some air," Booth said. He didn't even give her time for a comeback before going outside. He found Erica leaning against the house.

"Wow, I could hear her out here," Erica commented. "How did it go?"

"I walked out," Booth said. He felt exhilarated. He had stood up for himself for once.

"You feel good?"

"I feel great."

"You might wanna get back in there after a bit, though. Don't leave the fight entirely," Erica warned.

"I know. I will."

"Good luck," she winked. Then she was gone. Booth waited another ten minutes before going back inside. Rebecca was sitting with her arms crossed on the couch.

"I can't believe you walked out on me," she snapped.

"I was giving us a moment. It was getting too heated," Booth said.

"You can sleep on the couch tonight," she huffed.

"All right," he agreed. She stomped up the stairs, and he went to curl up on the couch. After what felt like a long time, he opened his eyes to find himself sitting back in Erica's office.

"So?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," he replied honestly. "I slept on the couch. She was mad that I left the room."

"Sometimes when people are used to being the bully, they are super mad when their target has the confidence to try to make things healthy," Erica noted.

"You think it will have changed our relationship now?" Booth asked.

"There's only one way to find out," Erica answered. Booth nodded. He would see Rebecca when she came to pick up Parker. He'd see then if their relationship was different.

"Thanks," he said, getting up to leave. He was feeling great. He had processed Edwin's bombshell of news, and he was going to finally be brave in front of Rebecca.

"What are you doing?" Brennan asked when he went to where Parker was sleeping. He wanted to kiss his son goodnight.

"I'm going to say goodnight to Parker," he answered logically. She looked at him, confused.

"Who is Parker?" she asked. Booth froze.

"What?" he countered.

"Who is Parker?" she repeated.

"My son?" he said as a question. Her eyebrows flew up.

"You have a son?!" she exclaimed. "Why have you never told me about him?"

"What?" he asked, feeling so confused. He pushed open the guest room only to find the room empty. He looked at Brennan in horror.

"You told me you didn't have any kids, that ours was your first," Brennan said, putting her hand on her belly. "Did you lie to me?"

"What? No," Booth said. "I just...hang on." He fled the room, feeling panicked. What was happening? Where was his son?! He picked up his phone and tried to call Rebecca, but her number was not in it. Feeling even more confused, he searched her and found her number. When she answered, he felt sick.

"Where is Parker?" he demanded.

"Who is this?" Rebecca asked.

"It's Booth."

"Seeley Booth?" she said, incredulous.

"Yes. Where is our son?"

"Um, we don't have a son," Rebecca said. "Are you all right? Have you gone mental? Why are you calling me? We haven't spoken since our fight all those years ago, Seeley."

"Oh my God," Booth said, hanging up on her. He grabbed at his face. It had hit him like a ton of bricks. That night they had fought, they had also made up because of his lack of ability to stand up to her, and that was the night Parker had been conceived. Going back and ending the fight differently changed everything. Parker was never created. Parker was gone.

Feeling as though his heart would break in two from the pain, Booth howled.

* * *

 **Yup, it's a cliffhanger. Stay tuned! :)**


	14. Peace

**You guys are in luck. I have finished this story and am just doing the final touches to the epilogue. I will post it very soon. I apologize for the heart attack, but it leads into the conclusion as you have probably already guessed. Also, just to clarify for one of the reviewers that Erica did not know Parker would disappear when Booth did his regret with Rebecca so she is not at fault please don't hate her. Happy reading!**

* * *

Parker was gone. Booth paced Brennan's apartment. She was angry at him because she thought he had lied to her. She was making him stay on the couch. This whole thing was a nightmare. He had no idea how he could have been so stupid. Of course that fight led to Parker being born. How could he have forgotten that?! Every time he thought of Parker not being there, his heart hurt. He couldn't go on without his son. He couldn't. He had to get him back. He tried opening all the doors, but nothing led back to Erica. He felt panicked and tried to breathe. He could go back and fix it. He would fix it. This was not permanent. He tossed and turned all night on that couch. Sleep evaded him, and he knew the next day was going to be utter hell.

...

Booth spent the next day frantically trying to find Erica. He yanked open doors all day only to find them leading to where they were supposed to. Booth didn't want to live without Parker. He needed his son. To make things worse, Brennan was not talking to him because she believed he was lying to her. The whole thing gave him a huge headache.

"Are you okay?" Sweets asked him when he pulled open his office door violently and making Sweets step back a little. Why Sweets was even there on a Sunday was beyond Booth. He was just desperately trying all doors that he had accessed Erica to before.

"I'm fine," Booth snapped back.

"You don't seem fine..."

"Just leave me alone," Booth growled. Sweets raised his brows but walked away without another word. Booth paced his office. He couldn't focus at all. His phone went off then. He knew it was a case, but he didn't answer it. He didn't care.

"I hear you and the doctor are fighting?" Caroline asked, poking her head in. Booth looked up at her. What the hell was she doing here?

"What? How did you hear that?"

"The walls talk, cherie," she answered. "And I'm here to pick up my briefcase I forgot, that's all. I can tell you're wondering."

"There has been a misunderstanding, but I am going to fix it," he told her.

"I hope so. You've been after that woman for so long now. If you screw it up, I'll beat you with a stick," Caroline warned.

"Got it," Booth nodded. He knew she meant it too. He had to fix this mess. He just had to.

"Come on, Dr. Erica," he muttered, bouncing his leg up and down. He needed her and he needed her now.

...

"Oh, I have to go," Erica said, feeling the pull.

"Now?" Adam asked, incredulous. They were in the middle of a make out fest, which was clearly going to become more.

"I'm so sorry."

"I guess I knew what I was getting into being with you," he grinned. "All right, but hurry up."

"You know it will take no time at all," she said, poking him. Therapy time did not have any effect on regular time, which was handy.

"Still...hurry up!" he called after her as she skittered down the hall to her office.

...

After hours and talking to a frosty Brennan about the case they had started, Booth went out and hurried to the bathroom. Finally, Erica's office showed up.

"Where have you been?" he asked angrily, slamming the door behind him. "I need you!"

"What happened?" she asked.

"I lost Parker!"

"What?"

"When I changed that fight between Rebecca and I, I screwed up us making up and making Parker," Booth explained.

"Oh no," Erica gasped.

"I need to go back and fix it right now," he said.

"Okay. Hang on," Erica said, finding the date and time again and sending him on his way. She stared at his seat when he was gone, feeling worried for him. How much more could he take?!

...

Booth found himself face to face with Rebecca again, and he worked hard to remember how he dealt with this the first time.

"I'm sorry," he said once she was done yelling at him for missing their date.

"You're sorry?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm so sorry. I'm in the wrong. I should have called."

"Yes, you should have," she said, starting to relax. Booth felt relief. This was going the way he remembered. He reached to touch her cheek. It bothered him greatly to have to sleep with Rebecca again when he was with Brennan, but if it gave him his son back, then he'd have to do it. He felt that Brennan would do the same thing because after all, this was technically before their time.

"I guess I could forgive you," she said, pulling on his hand.

"Yea?"

"Yea," she smiled coyly. She led him to the bedroom. Suddenly, he felt a yanking sensation, and he wound up back in the chair across from Erica.

"Did it work?" she asked him.

"I...I don't know. I got pulled out before we did anything."

"I guess there is only one way to find out," she said. Booth jumped up and pulled open her door, revealing Brennan's apartment. He stepped through it, holding his breath.

"Booth?" Brennan called.

"Here," he answered. He took in the sight of Brennan standing beside Parker outside the guest room. It was back to the night before. Booth rushed over to him and hugged him tightly.

"Ah! Dad!" Parker yelped.

"Sorry," Booth said, pulling away. He was just so relieved and happy to have his son back.

"Are you okay?" Brennan asked.

"Yea. Yea, I'm okay now," Booth answered. "I just need some air." He needed to regain his senses.

"Good night," Parker said. Booth hugged him again before his son went in and closed the door behind him.

"Are you sure you're okay? You're really pale," Brennan said, peering at him.

"I just...I thought I lost something, but I found it," Booth told her. He really wanted to tell her about his therapy, but he was pretty certain she would call it ridiculous and explain how scientifically it couldn't be possible. Plus, he wasn't allowed to tell her. He stepped out onto the balcony to breathe. Parker was back. Everything was okay. It really made Booth think about this therapy, though. Did he need to continue? He was in a good place now, and he didn't want to risk changing anything else of his present. Maybe he could stop. He looked back through the window at Brennan, who was on her laptop. If he lost her, he knew he wouldn't ever forgive himself.

...

Erica looked up from her desk the next day as Booth came into her office. She already knew what he was going to say before he said it.

"I'm quitting," he said, standing in front of her.

"I know," she nodded.

"How?"

"Your close call yesterday. I knew you'd be done after that."

"You understand, right?"

"Of course, but I have to ask, do you feel better?"

"I do. I really do. I have come out of the dark place I was in. I think I'm going to be all right."

"I'm glad to hear that," Erica said, her voice sounding disappointed, however.

"You don't seem happy," he pointed out.

"I just was looking forward to the group therapy piece and having you in it," she said. "But it's okay. You said you're good now, and I want you to be good. Don't stay for me."

"I really have enjoyed our sessions, even though it was not at all what I expected," Booth said, smiling at her. "You are a good therapist, Dr. Erica."

"Oh, you," she said, blushing and waving her hand. "You're just saying that."

"No, I mean it. You're good at this. Don't stop," Booth urged. She mentally laughed to herself. It had been exactly what she had been thinking lately.

"How do you separate yourself from your job?" she asked him, curious. It had to be similar to this, right?

"I just keep work as work and life as life," Booth answered. "If I think about work when I'm not working, then there is no life. Keep them separate."

"Good advice," she smiled. It was too bad she couldn't tell him that he could be a therapist himself once he was finished the group therapy and passed the final test. She had a hunch he would turn it down, though.

"So, I guess this is goodbye," Booth said. Erica felt a little sad. She didn't like goodbyes.

"I guess it is," she agreed. She stood and shook his hand.

"It will be nice opening doors and not falling on my face," he joked.

"Take care of yourself," she told him. He gave her a final smile and a wave, and then he was gone. Feeling disappointed and a little sad, she gathered her things and headed for the door. When she pulled it open, she stopped short. Her house was dark except for candles, and she could see Adam standing by the window.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Can't a guy do something romantic?" he asked, teasing.

"Of course. What did you break?" she questioned, teasing back. He laughed.

"It's not an apology type of romantic gesture," he said. She walked closer, setting down her things. She stopped in front of him and smiled up at him.

"Rough day?" he asked, seeing her eyes. They always gave away her true feelings.

"My client left today," she answered. "The guy with the different father."

"It is a tough therapy to do."

"He just didn't want to risk losing anything else in his present."

"Understandable."

"So what is all this?" she asked, looking around. When her eyes got back to him, he was on his knee. She felt her heart jump, and her hand went to her mouth. Was he? Could he be?

"Erica," he said. "You're charming and cute and funny and so much fun to be around. I love everything about you, and I would love nothing more than to spend forever with you. Will you marry me?"

"Oh, Adam," she said, tearing up. "Yes! Of course I will marry you!" She could hardly wait for him to put the ring on her finger before kissing him and hugging him tightly. She finally got her happy ending.

...

"I love this," Booth said that evening. His arm was around Brennan as they sat on her couch.

"I agree," she nodded.

"Are you happy?" he asked.

"I am," she answered. "Are you?"

"Very."

"Are you going to see your father again?"

"No. I decided not to. It's best that things are left the way they are. I'm sure he understands."

Booth wasn't sure if this was entirely truthful, but at this current moment, he didn't want to see Edwin. He might change his mind. He wasn't sure yet. Jared was seeing him all the time at AA, so he could tell Booth when Edwin was really going downhill. Maybe he'd go say goodbye then. Maybe not. Even though he now knew and understood Edwin's pain, he still felt hurt from everything Edwin had done to him. Apology or not, there was a lot still there that couldn't just be erased, but perhaps there could be forgiveness. Forgiving definitely did not mean forgetting or that he had to be best friends with Edwin. Forgiveness was more for Booth to help heal from the scars.

"I love you," Brennan said, burying her face into his shoulder more. Booth felt warm and happy. He never tired of hearing her say that to him.

"I love you too," he replied, kissing the top of her head. "It's you and me against the world now."

"I will always have your back," she promised.

"And I yours," he responded. She slid her hand into his and squeezed it. He would never change this for anything. Going forward, he was pretty sure he would not have anymore regrets. Being Booth was going to be an enjoyable experience. He was going to make sure of that.

 **The End**

* * *

 **I decided to end it here as it will lead into Season 7, but it's not quite over yet. Please stay tuned for the Epilogue chapter that will conclude this story!**


	15. Epilogue: Seeley

**Epilogue**

 **A Few Months Later**

Booth was in his office when Jared knocked on his door. His face was solemn.

"What's wrong?" Booth asked upon seeing him.

"It's Dad," Jared answered. Booth felt his jaw twitch.

"What about him?"

"He's in the hospital now. He doesn't have long," Jared told him. He ran a hand over his scalp.

"What do you want me to do about that?" Booth asked him.

"I'm going to say goodbye, and I think you should too," Jared advised.

"Why?"

"Because I know, Seeley," Jared said, exhaling loudly. "Dad told me everything. He wants to tell you more about your real father."

"I have laid that to rest," Booth declared. However, a small part of him was curious to know more about Seeley Wells. He tapped his fingers together, figuring out what he wanted to do.

"See, I don't think you have," Jared went on, reading Booth's mind. "You're my brother after all, and I know you. You want to know more."

"All right, all right," Booth gave in. "But I'm not thrilled to see Edwin again."

"I know that. He knows that, but he wants to talk to you one last time."

"I said all right," Booth retorted. "Let's go." He stood and grabbed his coat, following Jared out the door.

...

"He is on some very strong pain medication," the nurse warned as Booth and Jared stood outside Edwin's hospital room. "He might not respond."

"Thank you," Jared said. She left them alone, and Booth stared at the small shape on the bed. How did Edwin get so small? He had always been so big and terrifying. Jared moved to the side of the bed, looking down at Edwin. Booth hesitated before moving closer. Edwin turned his head at the sound, and his eyes widened at the sight of him.

"Seeley?" he rasped. "Seeley? My God, you're alive!"

Jared's head snapped up to look at Booth's, and Booth realized that Edwin believed him to be his long lost friend, Seeley Wells. Hadn't Edwin told him he looked almost exactly like him? He didn't know what to do. Should he correct him or let him believe his friend was okay?

"I'm so sorry," Edwin went on before Booth could correct him. "I let you down so bad. I don't know where Marianne is. She never stopped loving you, and I could never replace you. And your son...your son! He was such a good boy. You would have loved him so much. I let him down too. I hurt him, Seeley, and I will never forgive myself for that."

Booth suddenly knew what Edwin needed to hear, and although it almost pained him to give it to him, he also couldn't stand the look of anguish on Edwin's face any longer.

"It's all right, Edwin," Booth said. "You were a good person who got lost. It happens sometimes."

"I shouldn't have done it," Edwin shook his head. "I shouldn't have. I let everyone down..."

"Edwin," Booth said strongly. "It's all right."

Edwin swallowed, tears running down his cheeks.

"Is it really?" he asked. He sounded so hopeful. Booth felt emotion in his throat then. Edwin Booth was a broken man seeking redemption for his past. He had spent the last year and a bit of his life recovering and making amends. Jared had told Booth repeatedly that their father was a different man, that Jared had been skeptical at first, but he realized soon that Edwin was serious about atoning for what he had done.

"Yea, it is," Booth said, reaching out to squeeze Edwin's arm. Edwin nodded his head, still crying.

"Okay," he said. "Okay. Thank you. Thank you so much. I really am sorry."

"It's gonna be all right, Edwin," Seeley said. Death scared him, not that he would admit that to anyone. He couldn't imagine how afraid Edwin was right now.

"Jared," Edwin said, turning to face him. "Please tell Seeley I'm sorry."

"I will, Dad."

"And tell him there's a box in my bedroom that he should have. It's got his father's stuff in it."

"Okay."

"And I'm sorry. I really am."

"I know, Dad. It's okay," Jared nodded.

Edwin clutched Jared's hand in his tightly, still crying.

"I'm scared," he whispered.

"You're gonna be all right, Dad," Jared assured him, his voice thick. Edwin swiveled to look at Booth.

"You came," he said. "Seeley, you came."

"I did."

"There's a box..."

"I know. Jared told me."

"Your father...was amazing, and he didn't deserve...to die. I deserved...to die. I'm so sorry. He was...my brother. I let him down."

"You can't change death," Booth said, knowing how true that was. He thought of Vincent. Edwin struggled to breathe, and Booth knew it was going to be soon that Edwin was leaving this world.

"You look...just like him..." Edwin said, his voice growing weak. "I'm...proud of...you. You aren't...me..." He closed his eyes then.

"Dad?" Jared asked, afraid. Booth watched the monitor and saw Edwin's vitals dropping.

"Seeley?" Jared said, making Booth look at him. The monitor was wailing now.

"He's gone," Booth said, letting go of Edwin's arm.

"Just like that?" Jared asked, looking back at his father.

"Yea," Booth nodded. Jared bent down to kiss Edwin's forehead before stepping back. Booth called for a nurse, who came in and checked everything before unhooking Edwin from all the wires. Booth put his arm around Jared as they walked away. He hoped that Edwin was with Seeley now, that the best friends were together again.

...

Booth was sitting in his father's bedroom staring at the box. Jared had left him to it. He had gone to tell Hank what happened, and he was starting on the funeral arrangements. Edwin had left instructions, so he was working on that. Booth had told Brennan, and she had told him she was there for him when he needed her. He stared at the box, wondering what was inside. Hesitantly, he lifted the lid, and he felt a small gasp escape him. On top was a photo of his father, Seeley Wells, and Edwin had been right. Booth looked almost exactly like him. He lifted the photo out, examining it. He was trying to remember what Seeley had looked like from Edwin's trip to the past, but the image was fuzzy, and Seeley had been far away. Booth rummaged through the box and found baseballs cards, letters, and more photos. He read his father's letters to Marianne, feeling sad that they had had so much hope for their future only to have lost it. One in particular made him tear up.

 _Dearest Marianne,_

 _I can't wait to meet our child. I just know it's a boy. Our son. Maybe it sounds cliche, but I'd love to name him Seeley Junior. He can brag to all his friends that he got the coolest name from his old man. I mean, how often do you hear the name Seeley? Just promise me you'll think about it. I am also open to whatever you think fits. You know how easy going I am (insert a big, goofy grin here)._

 _I talked to Hank the other day. He asked me about Edwin, and I said he was doing all right. I think Hank worries about Edwin and how this war is going to affect him. I worry too. Edwin isn't as strong mentally as Hank is. I wish he had never joined up, but he wanted to be with me. I blame myself if something happens to him either now or after the war. I'm older than him after all, and he's like my younger brother. Hank joked that I was really a Booth at heart, and that makes me proud. I'd give anything to be a real Booth boy. I miss both Hank and Alice, my mother I never had. Alice always sends me cookies, which get devoured pretty fast over here._

 _Time is fragile over here. Know that I am always thinking of you. We are going out tonight to celebrate Edwin's engagement to my sister. He's pretty excited. Knowing him, he's gonna drink too much, and I'm probably gonna cover for him in the morning so he doesn't get kicked out. A part of me feels I should let him get kicked out, though, to save him from any further horror that is over here, but you know me too well. I always look out for my little "brother."_

 _I love you. I'll see you on the other side. Give that belly a rub for me._

 _Seeley_

Booth lowered the letter and clenched his jaw to keep from crying. No wonder Edwin tortured himself for all those years. He had indeed come close to dying instead of Seeley, and because Seeley was determined to protect him, he lost his best friend and brother. At least in the end, Booth had given Edwin peace. He didn't regret doing that now even though at the time it had been difficult. His father, Seeley Wells, would have given that to him too. Something else caught his eye near the bottom of the box, so he pulled it out. The photo of him and Edwin at Game Six of the World Series as well as a photo of him in Edwin's grip as a baby stared up at him. The words "best day ever" on each of them made Booth feel even sadder inside. Edwin may have failed terribly as a father, but he did love him. Booth thought back to his therapy sessions and seeing Edwin working to change his regrets at the same time (he figured out that was why Edwin had been different from his memory). Edwin had really been trying. Now, it was time to move on. Booth gathered everything up and lifted the box, standing in his father's house. There wasn't much else there. He would leave it to Jared to sort out. He made his way to his SUV and set the box inside. He sent Brennan a text saying he would be home soon, and he got in to drive. He couldn't wait to meet his daughter, who was going to be there any time now. Edwin's last words kept echoing in his mind.

 _You aren't me._

How Booth had hoped this would be the case, and his adopted father proved it to be true. He was Seeley Booth. He drove silently, thinking about Parker and his daughter. He would be the best father he could be, and no one would ever hurt them. He would make damn sure of that.

* * *

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